


Amnesia

by LunarMuseSerenity777



Series: Amnesia au [1]
Category: Ducktales (2017)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Drugging, Gen, Head Injury, Hypnosis, Kidnapping?(sort of), Manipulation, So much angst, cartoon violence, drugged, inaccurate depiction of hypnosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-06-14 20:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 22,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarMuseSerenity777/pseuds/LunarMuseSerenity777
Summary: A misadventure has left everyone’s Favorite duck with a case of amnesia. And an unfortunate twist of fate has him turned against his family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I’m posting my amnesia fic. It’ll still be going up on tumblr first. I made a couple edits. I changed a line that was driving me crazy, and I switched Donald’s Gaelic pet name from chuilein to bhalcáno. It means volcano, I thought it fit.

Scrooge felt like he’d been dunked into an icy bath when Donald leapt between him and Glumgold. A look of total disgust on his face. Behind him Glumgold gave Scrooge an unpleasantly gleeful smile.

Fighting Donald was the last thing Scrooge wanted to do, but he knew better than to let down his guard.

“Donald,” Scrooge said weakly.

“You stay away from my uncle, McDuck,” Donald growled at him brandishing a staff. Scrooge managed to block the attack with his cane.

“Donald,” Scrooge repeated urgently, “you need to listen to me!” He pushed Donald back and swung a counterattack. Donald blocked it effortlessly.

“Why should I listen to anything you have to say?” Donald snarled, knocking back Scrooge’s cane and moving to strike again. Scrooge just barely caught the attack.

“Because Glumgold is lying to you,” Scrooge said desperately. He threw Donald off, but the younger duck recovered quickly and readied his next attack.

“Why would Uncle Flint lie to me?” Donald asked angrily as Scrooge parried his attacks.

“He’s not your uncle,” Scrooge said with a strained voice, holding off Donald, “I AM!”

A shocked look flashed across Donald’s face and Scrooge threw him off balance.

There was a pause as Scrooge tried to catch his breath and Donald collected himself. He looked up at Scrooge with a downright murderous look on his face.

“How. Dare. You.” Donald growled and launched a barrage attack.

“Donald, please,” Scrooge pleaded as he fended off his nephew’s attacks, “You have to believe me.”

He panted, struggling to keep up with the younger duck. Donald only growled in response and kept the attacks coming.

Scrooge didn’t know how much longer he would be able to hold out. Donald was a force to be reckoned with when he was truly enraged. He caught a particularly vicious strike and for a moment their faces where just inches apart.

“Please, mo bhalcáno,” Scrooge whispered staring into his nephew’s enraged eyes.

The change was almost instantaneous. The anger drained away from Donald’s face and in its place was a look of confusion and recognition. He stumbled backwards and rose a hand to his temple, blinking furiously and almost doubling over. Scrooge hesitantly reached out to him.

“Donald,” he called softly, taking a tentative step forward.

“Donald!” Glumgold barked, making both Scrooge and Donald jump. He grabbed Donald by his shirt collar and pulled him away from Scrooge.

Scrooge snarled and bolted forward. Glumgold was ready for him though and knocked off his feet. Before Scrooge could collect himself Glumgold had pulled Donald away towards the tunnel they’d come from. He shot Scrooge one last smug grin before he disappeared down the dark tunnel with Donald in tow.

Scrooge watched them go with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald has a confrontation with The kids

They’re just children, Donald thought angrily as he looked over McDuck’s niece and nephews. What was that old duck thinking bringing them to a place like this?! His grip tightened on his staff as he shot a dissatisfied look up at the old Duck squaring off against his uncle.

Uncle Flint had told him to keep the kids ‘busy’ while he took on McDuck, but in all honesty Donald had no desire to fight a child. Judging by the apprehensive looks the three boys kept giving him it seemed they felt similarly.

The girl however...

“Uncle Donald, why are you helping Glumgold?” She demanded rushing toward him. He gave her a quizzical look. Why did they keep calling him uncle?

The sounds from the fight above them drew their attention. It looked like Uncle Flint had gotten the upper hand.

“Uncle Scrooge!” One of the boys (Huey) called out.

The girl and the boy in blue (Dewy) rushed toward them and Donald moved to intercept them.

“Sorry kids,” Donald said, adjusting his hold on his staff and taking a offensive stance, “but you’re staying down here.”

“Uncle Donald,” Dewy said, sounding panicked but taking a step towards him none the less, “we have to help Uncle Scrooge.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Donald asked furrowing his brow in confusion. Four pairs of eyes stared at him in shock.

“Don’t you remember who we are?” The boy wearing a green hoodie (Louie) asked in a small uncertain voice.

The girl (Webby?) studied him critically, then her eyes flashed up to the bandages wrapped around his head, realization dawning on her face.

The cave rumbled around them. Donald slammed his staff into the ground to steady himself. The kids weren’t so lucky. The shaking ground knocked them off their feet. Some loose stones fell out of the walls and ceiling.

Donald looked up to check the integrity of the cave when he noticed a large rock came loose right over one of the triplets.

“Louie!” Donald cried and found himself darting over to the green clad triplet. He wrapped himself around the boy and threw them both out of harms way. The stalactite crashed to the ground just seconds later.

“Are you alright?” Donald asked, looking over the duckling for any injuries. The boy was shaken, but otherwise unharmed.

“I’m ok,” he said softly. Donald let out a sigh of relief and let him go as the other three children rushed over. Louie scrambled over to his brothers.

Donald gave them a fond smile. His boys were alright.

Wait... They weren’t his boys.

He frowned at the thought and shook his head. For a moment the world seemed to shift around him, he pressed a hand to his forehead and hunched over, trying to steady himself. He clamped his eyes shut as his head started to ache.

“Uncle Donald?” An uncertain voice called out to him. He forced himself to look up. Dewy took a hesitant step towards him with a fearful look on his face. Donald felt a sudden urge to reassure him when a sound from the fight above them captured his attention.

McDuck had turned the tables on Uncle Flint, and Donald felt a pang of panic as he angrily stalked towards his downed uncle.

“Uncle Flint,” Donald cried springing to his feet and running as quickly as he could to his uncle’s aid.

“Uncle Donald wait!” One of the children called after him, but it barely registered over the sound of his blood pounding in his ears.


	3. Chapter 3

Donald tossed and turned in bed. No matter what he tried he couldn’t suppress the feeling of wrongness he’d had since he and Uncle Flint had made it home.

Perhaps it was just the amnesia but the room he’d been lead to when they had arrived felt so... empty. Not in the literal sense, but more like it was unused, impersonal. It didn’t feel like ‘home’ to him. But he shrugged those feelings off for now.

It was amazing that in such a big, comfortable bed he just couldn’t sleep. He groaned in frustration and rolled on to his back.

He wanted to get up for a glass of water, but the medicine the doctor had given him for his head made him sluggish and unsteady. And he honestly didn’t want to risk another head injury so soon after his last one.

He stared up at the ceiling. Maybe it was the medicine or maybe his exhaustion was finally catching up with him, but he felt his eyelids begin to close, almost involuntary.

His last thought before sleep claimed him was ‘why had Scrooge called him ‘mo bhalcáno,’ and why was it so... familiar?’

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Donald stared sadly into his coffee cup. He’d woken up feeling marginally better, though a bit late, and with a hankering for blueberry pancakes.

Uncle Flint was busy this morning, he was the second richest duck in the world, so he was alone. He figured he just make himself a few.

Unfortunately a ‘few’ turned into a literal feast, with several stacks of pancakes, enough to feed at least seven people. And he’d only realized his mistake when he caught himself pouring three different cups of coffee.

He didn’t know how he had gotten so carried away. It was wasteful. But more than that, it was lonely. All alone in this big house he couldn’t help but feel the emptiness around him, suffocating him.

The doctor had told him he needed to eat with his medication, but right now he found that he’d lost his appetite.


	4. Chapter 4

Scrooge sat with his head in his hands, staring blankly ahead. This was all his fault. If only he’d made sure Donald had been on the bloody plane in the first place then none of this would have happened.

He could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision.

Donald had been against the expedition from the start. He’d been concerned about bringing the kids to such an unstable place. How he wished he’d listened to him now.

He gave a remorseful glance to the spherical artifact on his desk.

He had thought the years of silence between them, and then the sometimes blatant hostility were bad enough. But he was so wrong. They were nothing compared to looking his nephew in the eye and not seeing even a spark of recognition.

He hadn’t noticed the tears running down his feathers until he heard Mrs. Beakley clear her throat from the doorway. He discretely wiped his eyes and composed himself.

“Beakley,” he said, straightening himself in his chair.

“Scrooge,” She said, stepping into the room.

“Is there something you needed?” He asked, pretending to look over some papers on his desk.

“You’re still up,” she stated, giving him a stern look.

“I have a lot of work to do,” he said dismissively and turned over a paper for effect. Beakley gave him her most unimpressed look.

“Working yourself to the ground isn’t going to help Donald,” she said pointedly.

Scrooge stood up abruptly, turning his back to her and walking towards the window. The tension in the room was almost palpable. With a heavy sigh, Beakley stepped towards her employer.

“You need to rest,” she stressed. Scrooge snorted.

“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” he said stiffly. A heavy silence passed between them.

“This wasn’t your fault,” she told him softly. Scrooge whipped around to face her. Anger flashing in his eyes. He opened his bill to speak, but the words caught in this throat. A wave of guilt came crashing down on him.

Fresh tears welled up in his eyes in his eyes, as he averted his gaze. He struggled to keep his composure.

“If I had just,” his voice faltered. He closed his eyes and took a ragged breath. “If I had just, paid attention!” He curled in on himself. “I should have made sure everyone had gotten to the plane. I should have checked, I should have...”

Beakley grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look up at her.

“We are going to get him back,” she assured him. Scrooge closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before mutely nodding. Beakley pulled away from him. “But first, you need to get some sleep.”

“Alright,” he conceded with a sigh. He cast a final look at the artifact on his desk.

It hadn’t been worth it. It hadn’t been worth losing Donald.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

There was a noticeable uneasy in the manor when Scrooge went down for breakfast the next morning.

The children were all unnaturally quiet. Even Webby was still in her seat. Louie had curled himself into a ball on his chair. Dewey was fidgeting uncomfortably, and Huey was flipping through his guild book absently.

Scrooge shared a quick look with Beakley, who was setting out hot chocolate for the kids, though none of them seemed interested in drinking it. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, hoping to dispel the tension in the room.

“So,” he said with a cheerfulness he didn’t feel, “what does everyone want for breakfast?”

His attempt to lighten the mood failed spectacularly as all four children instantly stiffened and the tension increased tenfold.

“Uncle Scrooge,” Huey said in a strained voice, a pained look on his face, “it’s Tuesday.”

‘Oh,’ Scrooge thought as a feeling of dread and guilt settled in his stomach. ‘Blueberry pancake day.’


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladstone arrives

Gladstone stepped out of the bus terminal into the bright sunshine, squinting in the sudden change in lighting. Ah Duckberg, it had been awhile since he’d been back.

It had been a surprise to get a call from Uncle Scrooge. He’d been unusually cryptic over the phone, and very insistent that Gladstone get to Duckberg as quickly as possible. It was lucky Gladstone had been in St. Canard when he got the call.

He looked around for a place to sit and wait. Uncle Scrooge had said he would be by to pick him up. Though he wasn’t looking forward to Launchpad’s driving.

He spotted a familiar figure as he surveyed his surroundings.

“Donald,” he called out, waving at his cousin. Donald jumped at the greeting and spun around. Gladstone wasted no time in rushing over to him.

“Hey D-Square,” He said brightly, clapping him on the shoulder. Donald blinked at him.

“G-Gladstone?” Donald asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. Uncle Scrooge must not have told him he was coming.

“Yeah, it’s been awhile. How’ve you been Cuz?” Gladstone asked with a smile.

Donald’s eyes snapped shut and he hunched forward bringing a hand to his head. Alarmed, Gladstone took hold of both his shoulders.

“Donald?” He called, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

“I-I know you,” his voice was pained and uncertain. Gladstone felt an unpleasant churning in his stomach. “H-how, how do I know you?”

“We’re cousins, Donnie, of course we know each other,” Gladstone said weakly. His grip on Donald’s shoulders tightened.

Donald shook his head violently and broke away from him. He grasped his head with both hands, breathing erratically.

Gladstone stood frozen in front of him. He was at a complete loss at what to do. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and reached out to him.

“Donald,” he said gently. Donald flinched away from him, a panicked look in his eyes.

“I-I have to go,” he stuttered pathetically.

“Wait!” Gladstone cried as Donald darted away from him. He made a grab for his cousin, but Donald evaded him and disappeared down the street, leaving a confused and worried Gladstone in his wake.

Gladstone stared blankly ahead. He had half a mind to chase after him, but he knew there was no way he’d be able to overtake him.

“Gladstone?” A familiar voice broke through his musings. He turned to face the speaker. Uncle Scrooge was walking towards with a frown on his face. Gladstone came to an unpleasant realization when he saw his uncle.

“What did you do?”


	6. Chapter 6

Donald cradled his head in his hands, trying to get his breathing under control. He’d only made it a few blocks from the bus terminal before the pain in his head and a sudden wave of nausea forced him to stop. He’d sunk into the first bench he found.

Maybe he should have stayed home like Uncle Flint had told him to. But the mansion was so overwhelmingly quiet and empty and lonesome, he’d found himself unable to.

His encounter with Gladstone left him more than a little uncomfortable. He hadn’t recognized Uncle Flint when he first saw him. Hell, he’d been unable to remember his own name when he first woke up.

But he had recognized Gladstone the second he saw him, as if it was normal and natural.

‘We’re cousins, Donnie.’

Donald tried to shake his words from his head. It bothered him that he didn’t just believe him, he felt like he already knew that. But he couldn’t remember how. He probed his mind for answers, but came up empty.

He took a deep breath and attempted to will away his nausea. He should probably head back before Uncle Flint found out he’d left. Though for some reason, he found himself unwilling to.

He wasn’t sure why. It was just a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, one that every time he reached for only served to make his head hurt worse.

Besides, he doubted he could make it back right now anyway.

“Donald!” An angry voice cut through his thoughts. He jerked his head up, giving himself a fresh stab of pain in the process. Uncle Flint was stalking towards him with a seething look on his face.

“Uncle Flint,” Donald said weakly. Oh he was in trouble now.

“What are you doing out here?” He demanded as he reached Donald’s bench.

“I, er, went for a walk,” he answered in a small voice, unable to meet his uncle’s eyes. Uncle Flint growled at him.

“I told you to stay inside,” he said angrily, grabbing Donald by the arm and pulling to his feet.

“I know, I-I just thought some fresh air would be good for me,” Donald said helplessly as his uncle dragged him over to the waiting limo. Uncle Flint snorted.

“You’re in no condition to be out,” he said, practically shoving Donald into the limo. He gave a fugitive glance around before following. He signaled the driver and the limo lurched forward.

“I’m sorry,” Donald mumbled guiltily. He curled in on himself and kept his eyes trained downward. Beside him his uncle sighed and started fiddling with something. After a brief, uncomfortable silence Uncle Flint turned to him.

“Here, drink this,” he ordered, holding out a glass. Donald glanced at it then gave him a quizzical look. “It’ll help.”

With a sigh, Donald took the glass without further question and downed its contents. It was oddly sweet. He handed the glass back to his uncle and leaned back in his seat.

After a few moments he blinked drowsily. He must have worn himself out more than he’d thought. He felt his eyes slide shut and knew no more.


	7. Chapter 7

“How could you let this happen?!” Gladstone demanded angrily. Scrooge stiffened uncomfortably, but did his best to hide it behind a stern look.

“I didn’t let it...” Scrooge started.

“Save it, Scrooge,” Gladstone cut him off. “This is the second time you...” He stopped abruptly. He clamped his bill shut and turned away from him. But Scrooge knew exactly what he’d been going to say.

There was a tense moment of silence as Gladstone struggled to control his breathing and Scrooge stood like a statue across from him. He didn’t have the heart to defend himself.

“How are the kids taking it?” Gladstone asked once he composed himself. Scrooge let out a heavy sigh.

“Not... well,” he answered quietly, averting his gaze.

“I guess that’s to be expected,” Gladstone said sadly. He rubbed his temples and turned back to his uncle. “What are we going to do?”

Scrooge was silent. He stared down at the carpet lost in thought. What were they going to do? He doubted Glumgold would let them anywhere near Donald. They’d missed a golden opportunity earlier. He never thought he’d regret Launchpad not driving fast enough.

“I don’t know,” he admitted finally, unable to keep the devastation out of his voice. Gladstone looked him over with a sorrowful look in his eyes.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” he said softly. A heavy silence settled over them. After a long moment Gladstone took a deep breath and straightened himself up.

“Alright,” he said decisively, and headed for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Scrooge demanded. Gladstone paused, but didn’t turn to face him.

“I’m going to check on the kids,” he answered tensely. “You don’t need me to come up with a plan. So, I’ll just give you some... space.”

With that said he left, moving a bit faster than he needed to. Scrooge stared after him. Part of him wanted to call after him, but it was probably best to give him some space right now. Besides, he had bigger things to worry about.


	8. Chapter 8

Dewey paced back and forth in Webby’s room where the kids had set up their base of operations. Webby stood in front of white board where she was jotting down ideas. Huey was sitting cross legged on the floor flipping through a medical book.

Louie had relegated himself to a corner. He’d pulled his hood over his head and tucked his knees to his chest. His face was buried in his arms.

“What if we hit him over the head?” Dewey suggested, pausing from his pacing and turning to look at Webby.

“Oh, like in the movies,” Webby said writing it down on the board. Huey gave them an uncomfortable look.

“Ah guys, I’m pretty sure that would just make it worse,” he said uncertainty. Dewey groaned and threw his hands up in frustration. Webby crossed her arms.

“We have to try something,” she said emphatically. Huey scowled down at the book he was holding.

“We can’t do anything,” Louie said. His voice muffled by his hoodie. The other kids looked over at him sadly. Huey got up from his spot and moved over to sit next to him.

“We’ll find him, Louie,” he said comfortingly, wrapping an arm around his youngest brother.

“It doesn’t matter,” Louie croaked, “he doesn’t remember us!” Huey pulled him into a hug. Dewey and Webby exchanged concerned looks.

“I’m sure Uncle Scrooge...” Webby started.

“It’s Uncle Scrooge’s fault!” Louie cut her off angrily and buried his face in Huey’s chest. Huey patted his back sympathetically and gave Webby an apologetic look over his head.

“Wait,” Dewey said suddenly, “maybe he does remember us.” Huey and Webby both gave him a disbelieving look. “Remember in the cave, when that big rock was gonna fall on Louie. Uncle Donald saved him!” Huey exchanged a quick glance with Webby.

“That might have just been instincts,” Huey suggested, but Dewey shook his head.

“No, no, it was more than that,” Dewey insisted.

“Ok, so what does that mean?” Huey asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It means,” Dewey said, gesturing for effect, “that if Uncle Donald thinks we’re in danger, it’ll jog his memory.”

Huey looked unconvinced, but Webby instantly brightened.

“That’s a great idea!” She said, springing over of the white board to write it down.

“Guys,” Huey said exasperated. Before he could say anything more a knock on the door drew everyone’s attention. Uncle Gladstone was standing on the threshold, with a weak smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes on his face.

“Uncle Gladstone!”

“Hey kiddos,” he greeted. Louie disengaged himself from Huey and practically threw himself at his uncle. Gladstone wrapped his arms around him. “Hey there green bean.”


	9. Chapter 9

Glumgold closely watched the sleeping duck on the bed. It was unnerving how much Donald resembled a younger Scrooge, but he pushed the thought from his mind for the time being. The dose he’d given the younger duck should be wearing off soon.

As if on cue, Donald let out a low groan and his eyes fluttered open.

“Well, hello there,” Glumgold said, plastering a smile on his face.

“Uncle Flint?” Donald asked softly, looking up at him groggily.

“You had me worried, lad,” Glumgold said with a well practiced look of worry on his face. He reached over to gently stroke Donald’s head. Donald sighed softly and leaned into the touch.

“‘M s’rry,” he slurred, trying to keep his eyes open. Glumgold chuckled fondly.

“It’s alright,” he said warmly, then adopted a more somber tone as he continued, “But lad, you really can’t be wandering out on your own right now.” Donald guiltily averted his gaze. “Promise me you won’t leave the mansion alone again.”

After a long moment, Donald closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

“Alright,” he conceded softly. Glumgold gave him a beaming smile.

“Good! Now then, how ‘bout something to eat?” He asked brightly. Donald nodded, then winced and brought a hand up to his head. “And your pain pills, you’re a bit overdue for those too.”

Donald groaned in response and rubbed his forehead.

“I’ll go get them for you,” he said fondly, and got up to leave the room.

“Thanks,” Donald called quietly after him. Glumgold shot a look over his shoulder at him before exiting the room.

Once the door closed behind him he let his facade fall. He was pleased that he’d gotten Donald to agree with him. Though he had been expecting more of a fight, he was Scrooge’s nephew after all. And amnesia or not it hadn’t been easy to convince him that he was his uncle.

He pondered as he made his way to the mansion’s kitchen. The doctors had told him there was no way to prevent Donald’s memories from coming back, but there was a chance they might never return.

Glumgold snorted at that. He could already see Donald beginning to piece things together. He’d managed to sabotage those efforts. But the bigger problem was Scrooge. Glumgold knew he would stop at nothing to get his nephew back.

So, if he wanted to keep Donald, he was going to need a more... creative way to keep his memories at bay.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it might take me a while to get around to writing what happened before Donald got amnesia, I’m gonna explain what the artifacts are. They’re keys to the tomb of a king who was buried with his riches, and were each hidden in three different temples. I didn’t want to disrupt the flow of the story with exposition, but I also didn’t want to leave you guys in the dark.

Scrooge paced back and forth in his study. He’d gone over every bit of information they’d gathered so far at least twice. From what he could tell Glumgold hadn’t taken Donald to a hospital once they had returned to Duckberg.

Which meant if he had taken Donald to see a doctor, they were most likely on his payroll. At least he hoped Glumgold had taken Donald to a doctor. A head injury severe enough to cause amnesia would need medical attention.

He shook the thought from his head. Donald was valuable to Glumgold right now. Of course Glumgold would have sought medical aid for him, he assured himself. But a lingering doubt remained.

It was clear that Glumgold was keeping Donald away from any and all public places. It had been a stroke of luck that Gladstone had bumped into him alone.

Scrooge huffed in frustration. If only he’d gotten there just a minute sooner. But there was no point in thinking about squandered opportunities.

He sighed and turned to look out the window. If he had to guess, Glumgold was most likely keeping Donald at his mansion. And while he knew Glumgold was cheap when it came to security (and, well everything else) trying to break into his mansion was a risky move.

Besides, right now Donald wouldn’t come with them willingly. He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes.

There had to be a way to get through to him. He thought back to how Donald reacted to his old pet name. Maybe...

He let out a defeated groan and moved to sit down at his desk. What was he going to do? What could he do?

He stared down at the papers on his desk. If he wanted to to get through to Donald he would need to get him away from Glumgold. Involuntarily, he looked over to where the artifact rested on his desk.

It still sat exactly where he’d dropped it after that fateful adventure, glowing a lovely spring green. It almost seemed to taunt him, but for a moment he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Finally he forced himself to look away from it. He needed to focus at the task at hand. Besides, it was next to useless on its own. He would need the other two... The other two!

A sudden realization dawned on him. Glumgold had known what it was, more importantly he’d known what is was for. Scrooge grabbed the artifact to examine it more closely.

It might be a bit of a long shot, but if he could lure Glumgold to one of the other temples. Then they might get an opportunity to separate him from Donald.

As much as he didn’t want to put his nephew in more danger, he knew this could be the only chance they had. Decision made, he got his feet and headed for the door, still clutching the artifact.

“Beakley!”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a bit on the short side this time. But let me know what you guys think.

Beakley looked over her employer with a look of unparalleled disbelief on her face.

“Are you serious?” She asked incredulously. Scrooge rubbed his eyes and sighed.

“Yes,” he said simply. As much as he wished there was another way, this was probably the best chance they had.

“Is such an unnecessary risk even warranted?” She asked crossing her arms. Scrooge gave her a thoughtful look.

“It’s the only way we can get near him,” Scrooge said heavily. He took a deep breath. “As long as we’re in Duckberg, Glumgold has the upper hand. He let Donald out of his sight once and we both know he won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Beakley gave him a searching look.

“While that’s true, there’s no way of knowing if he’ll take the bait, or if he would even bring Donald with him,” She surmised. Scrooge shook his head in disagreement.

“He wouldn’t miss the opportunity,” Scrooge said somberly. “Especially if he thinks he can pull on over on me. And there’s no way he’d risk leaving Donald alone.”

“I take it then you know where the other two temples are,” Beakley stated. Scrooge flashed a confident smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Of course,” he said, moving over to his desk where he’d laid out a large map. “I’ve narrowed it down to the most likely locations.

Beakley followed him over and peered down at the map. Scrooge grabbed a pen and marked out two points. One was in the center of a large lake. The other... was an active volcano. She was pretty sure she knew which one he wanted to lure Glumgold to.

“All we need to do is leak the information to Glumgold without him knowing,” Scrooge said thoughtfully, gazing down at the map.

“I might have a few ideas on how we could do that,” Beakley said with a conspiring grin.


	12. Chapter 12

Gladstone sat with Louie on his lap. The poor boy hadn’t let go of him since he saw him. And he was starting to get a cramp. He sighed and gently patted him on the head.

Secretly he was glad the other three children seemed to be taking it better. Or at least they were putting on a brave face. He couldn’t be sure.

After their somewhat dramatic reunion they’d relocated to the mansion’s main sitting room. Huey had taken a seat on the couch next to Gladstone. Across from them, Dewey and Webby had commandeered two comfy armchairs. Though neither of them looked particularly comfortable.

A heavy, awkward silence settled around them. Gladstone wasn’t sure what to say. What would Donald do in this situation? With his free hand he reached up to rub his head thoughtfully. What should he say? Donald was so much better at this than he was. He took a deep breath.

“Hey kids, I’m getting hungry. How ‘bout we get something to eat?” He suggested, hoping he sounded less awkward than he felt. Webby and Dewey exchanged a quick look and Huey glanced up at him. Louie stayed right where he was.

“I guess it is passed lunchtime,” Huey said softly, turning his attention to the clock on the wall.

“And we didn’t have much for breakfast,” Dewey added thoughtfully.

“I can go ask Granny to make us something,” Webby said springing to her feet. Gladstone gave her a weak smile.

“Why don’t you go do that, Hummingbird,” Gladstone said warmly. Webby beamed at him and darted from the room.

“I think I’ll go with her,” Dewey said awkwardly and got up to follow her. Gladstone couldn’t really blame him.

Beside him Huey fidgeted. Gladstone glanced over at him.

“Everything ok, Applesauce?” He asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, averting his gaze and nervously wrapping an arm around himself. Gladstone gave him a sympathic look.

“You can go with them if you want,” Gladstone said giving him a gentle nudge. Huey glanced up at him with a touch of panic in his eyes.

“But...” he said, casting a meaningful look at his green clad brother who still had his head buried in Gladstone’s chest. Gladstone caught his drift.

“Hey don’t worry,” Gladstone said brightly, “go get something to eat. I’ve got this.” He gestured to Louie. Huey gave him a skeptical look. Gladstone sighed.

“I know you’re worried, but trust me, everything is going to work out fine,” he said in a more serious tone. Huey looked him over contemplatively.

“Alright,” he said hesitantly and slid off the couch. Once he was gone Gladstone turned his attention to the boy clinging to him.

“Hey, Greenbean,” he said gently, rubbing the boy’s back. Louie flinched and tried to burrow further into Gladstone’s chest. “Come on kiddo, you can talk to me.”

Louie let out a muffled sniffle. Gladstone wrapped both his arms around him and placed a comforting hand on the back of his head.

“It’s ok to cry, ya know,” he whispered softly. He felt the duckling in his arms tremble.

“We... left him... behind,” Louie said, his voice muffled. Gladstone tightened his grip and pulled him closer. “We... d-didn’t even... realize... he wasn’t... he wasn’t there... until... until,” Louie’s voice faltered and he let out a muffled sob.

Gladstone closed his eyes and took a few deep, focusing breaths. He’d already heard the story from Uncle Scrooge. He felt his anger spike, but he pushed it down, he needed to focus on Louie right now.

“And now,” Louie continued, having found his voice again. “And now... he can’t even... he can’t even... remember us.”

Gladstone sighed and gently rocked him as he finally let out his bottled up grief.

“Shh, it’s gonna be ok,” Gladstone whispered, part to himself and part to the weeping boy in his arms. “It’s gonna be ok. We’ll get him back.”

“How?” Louie cried desperately.

“Uncle Scrooge will come up with a plan,” Gladstone told him confidently. Louie shook his head violently.

“This is all Uncle Scrooge’s fault!” He cried wetly. Gladstone pulled the crying boy away from him and tilted his head up to face him.

“Listen to me Louie,” he said sternly, “this may be Uncle Scrooge’s fault, but trust me when I tell you that he will get Donald back.”

Gladstone stared down into Louie’s tear soaked face with a look of utter confidence and conviction. As angry as he was at the older duck, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Uncle Scrooge would get Donald back.

Louie sniffled and nodded wiping away the tears from his face.

“Now, why don’t we go see about that lunch?” Gladstone asked, ruffling Louie’s hair. Louie gave him a weak smile and nodded.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit on the short side this time.

Glumgold looked over the massive expanse of blue with trepidation. He had several leads on possible locations for the other temples, but the recent tip off had been a bit... too convenient.

He had it triple checked, but as far as he could it hadn’t come from Scrooge. Though he wasn’t letting his guard down. If he had a positive location for one of the temples, then he was certain that Scrooge had the same information. He stole a quick glance at his insurance policy.

Donald had nodded off an hour or so after they’d taken off. It was a real risk bringing him along. He hadn’t fully recovered from his head injury and Glumgold wasn’t sure if his contingency plan was going to work. But leaving him alone in Duckberg was out of the question.

If this wasn’t a set up by Scrooge, then Glumgold had no doubt Scrooge was watching his movements. And there was no security system in the world that could keep out a determined Scrooge McDuck.

He sighed and looked back out the window. He could just make out the tiny island that was their destination. They would would be landing soon. He turned in his seat to rouse the sleeping duck beside him.

“Come on, lad. Time to wake up,” he said, reaching over to gently shake him awake. Donald let out a low groan and his eyes fluttered open. “We’re almost there.”

“Already?” Donald asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You’ve been out for awhile, me boy,” Glumgold said with a chuckle. Donald yawned and stretched in his seat. “You better strap in.”

Donald nodded and moved to fasten his seatbelt. Glumgold watched him intently. Subconsciously he reached into his pocket to make sure he had his emergency fallback on hand. With the possibility of running into Scrooge, he couldn’t be too careful.

“Aren’t you going to buckle up?” Donald asked, looking over at him. Glumgold blinked at him.

“Oh, right. I zoned out for a second,” he said, a little embarrassed. Donald gave him a fond smile as he went to buckle himself in.

He let out a heavy sigh as the plane began to descend. Whether or not they encountered Scrooge, he was going to have to take this expedition on very cautiously.


	14. Chapter 14

Scrooge paced back and forth furiously. So far everything had gone to plan. Glumgold had taken the bait, though he had been overly cautious in making his move. Scrooge paused his pacing to scrub his face thoughtfully.

As he had predicted, Glumgold was bringing Donald with him, but it was clear from his other actions that while he might not know that Scrooge was behind the tip off, he at least suspected it.

That meant that Scrooge was going to have to anticipate Glumgold’s anticipation. He groaned and resumed his pacing. Glumgold might not be his smartest adversary, but he wasn’t dumb. He was persistent and he was ruthless. Scrooge cast a weary look over at the kids and Gladstone.

He had initially planned for only Gladstone and himself to go on this mission, but the kids had been adamant that they come along too. He supposed it couldn’t hurt. Though he’d made them all promise to be careful. He was certain they’d be in no danger from Donald. Glumgold on the other hand...

He shook the thought from his head. Right now he needed to focus. Glumgold and Donald could show up anytime now and he had to be ready. They’d managed to get here first, but it was imperative that their presence not be detected.

“Geez Uncle Scrooge, sit down you’re making me nervous,” Gladstone called down to him from where he’d perched on a toppled column. Scrooge shot him an annoyed look.

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed at him. Gladstone rolled his eyes.

“You worry too much,” Gladstone said, but dutifully lowered his voice. “Everything’s gonna turn out fine.”

Scrooge flinched and opened his bill to say something when a sudden sound caught his attention. He turned toward the entrance to their hiding place, straining his ears.

“Uncle-“ Gladstone started, but Scrooge cut him off with a quick wave of his hand. The kids exchanged anxious looks.

Scrooge carefully and quietly crept to the entrance and peered out. From around the corner he saw the beam of a flashlight and heard the faint sound of footfalls.

He leaned out just a bit farther and closed his eyes to listen more closely. He could just make out the murmur of voices. They moved closer and Scrooge caught the sound of an unmistakable voice.

Donald.

“They’re here,” he breathed. His whispered statement put the whole family on edge. He gave them a signal and they all scrambled to join him by the entrance.

He turned to glance over them. His eyes met Gladstone’s and they shared a brief meaningful look. He gave him a curt nod.

“You all know what to do,” he said tensely. The kids nodded seriously. Above them Gladstone gulped loudly, but gave a quick nod all the same. Scrooge turned back to the entrance.

This was it.


	15. Chapter 15

Gladstone tailed quietly after Uncle Scrooge. A heavy, apprehensive silence had settled over them as they crept along the tunnel.

So far so good, Gladstone thought to himself.

They came to the end of the tunnel and Uncle Scrooge signaled for them to stop. Cautiously he leaned out of the tunnel’s exit. Nervously, Gladstone shifted slightly to get a better view of the room ahead of them.

The inner most sanctuary was an impressive sight. It was dimly lit by strange glowing crystals. Thin waterfalls encircled the chamber, covering the floor with a foot of water. In the center of the chamber was a tall spire topped with an alter.

It might have left him awestruck, if Gladstone wasn’t focused on the two figures standing in front of the spire. He felt his stomach clench.

In front of him Uncle Scrooge took a deep breath and turned to face them, a determined look in his eyes.

“Alright,” his voice scarcely above a whisper, “I’m going to draw away Glumgold. Once I’ve got him far enough away from Donald, you lot move in.”

“Yes, yes. We know,” Gladstone said flippantly. Hoping to mask his unease. Uncle Scrooge shot him an unimpressed look.

He turned back without a word and surveyed the room for an advantage. He zeroed in on a nearby ledge. He gave one last nod to the kids and Gladstone then took off. Stealthily scaling the wall up to the ledge.

Gladstone shot an anxious look over to Glumgold and Donald. Luckily neither of them had noticed. Once Uncle Scrooge made it to the ledge he turned to face the pair.

“Oy, Flinty! Fancy seeing you here!” He called down to them. His voice was deceptively light. Glumgold spun around.

“Ah, Scroogey. I was wondering where you were hiding,” Glumgold called back. He turned to Donald. “Lad, you go get the key. I’ll take of McDuck.”

“But-“ Donald started.

“Do as I say,” Glumgold snapped at him. Donald flinched.

Gladstone watched as Glumgold went to chase after Uncle Scrooge and Donald reluctantly started scaling the spire. He glanced down at the kids.

“Well, showtime,” he said with a weak smile, he glanced back out. “You kids hang back for now.”

“But we can help,” Dewey said crossing his arms.

“Let me talk to him first,” Gladstone said, looking over to where Uncle Scrooge had lured Glumgold. It looked like the coast was clear. “Here goes nothing.”

He darted out of the tunnel toward the spire. Behind him Webby and Dewey exchanged conspiring looks. With a nod they slipped out. Huey groaned.

“Guys,” he hissed chasing after them. Louie trailing behind him.


	16. Chapter 16

Gladstone reached the foot of the spire and looked up at his cousin. Donald had made it to the top and was fiddling with something on the alter. Gladstone took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Hey Donnie,” Gladstone called up to him. Above him Donald jumped and nearly lost his footing. He steadied himself and looked down at Gladstone.

“Gladstone? What are you doing here?” He asked, tucking something into his pocket. Gladstone let out a weak chuckle.

“That’s a… long story,” Gladstone said weakly. Donald shot him a suspicious look and started climbing down. Gladstone shifted nervously.

Donald had made it about half way down when he slipped and fell. Gladstone darted forward in alarm but Donald caught himself before he hit the ground. Gladstone let out a sigh of relief as Donald made it down safely.

“Are you alright?” He asked reaching out, but Donald waved him off.

“I’m fine,” he said trying to catch his breath. He took a few moments to collect himself before looking up critically at Gladstone.

“How did you even get here?” Donald asked suspiciously.

“Well,” Gladstone said awkwardly. Donald cocked an eyebrow at him.

“You’re working for McDuck,” Donald said accusingly. He fixed Gladstone with an intense gaze.

This is gonna be harder than I thought, Gladstone thought to himself. He fidgeted uncomfortably under his cousin’s gaze. At least Donald still recognized him. He could use that.

“You know I don’t need to work,” Gladstone said, flashing a cocky grin.

Donald blinked at him and the scowl on his face faded. Emboldened, Gladstone took a step forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on Donnie,” Gladstone said gently, tightening his grip on Donald’s shoulder. “Your boys are worried about you.”

Donald shook his hand off and pulled away.

“I don’t have kids,” he said stubbornly. Gladstone flinched. He didn’t want to do this, but if he was going to get through to him, he was going to have to pull out the big guns.

“Yes you do. They’re your nephews,” Gladstone said desperately. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for what he needed to say next. “Their Della’s boys, Donald.”

Donald jerked violently and took a step back. He hunched slightly and brought a hand to his forehead. Gladstone took another deep breath and closed the distance between them. He gently placed his hands on Donald’s shoulders.

“You… you remember Della, don’t you?” Gladstone asked softly. Donald trembled beneath his hands. His breath hitched and he squeezed his eyes shut.

A sudden shout broke the tense atmosphere, capturing both Gladstone and Donald’s attention. Dewey was perched precariously on a tiny ledge in the wall a fair distance from the ground. Just below him on a larger, though not by much, ledge the other three kids had crowded.

Gladstone felt his heart drop down to his stomach. Beside him Donald sprang forward a furious look on his face.

“Dewey! You get down from there this instant!” He shouted. Gladstone gave him a stunned look.

A smug smile spread across Dewey’s face and he leaned down to say something to Huey, but they were too far away to hear what was said. Huey scowled up at his brother in response and reached up, seemingly to pull him down. Louie hovered closely behind Huey. Webby stood just a bit apart from the boys, readying her grappling hook.

Donald stalked forward, his eyes never straying from them. Gladstone trailed behind him. A feeling of dread filled him.

Huey managed to grab hold of his brother and pull him down from his perch. The momentum caused him to lose his balance and he fell backwards knocking Louie off.

Gladstone froze in horror. Good luck or not, there was no way he’d be able to make it to him in time.

But Donald was.

Before anyone could register what had happened, Donald had raced forward and caught the falling boy. Unfortunately he couldn’t stop and lost his footing. He wrapped himself around Louie as the momentum carried them towards the wall of the chamber.

By a stroke of luck, whether it was good or bad Gladstone couldn’t tell, they didn’t slam into it. Instead the pair disappeared down a small crevice that was draining out the water.

Gladstone darted after them and fell to his knees at the opening.

“Donald! Louie!” He called down after them. Uncle Scrooge is going to kill him.


	17. Chapter 17

Louie clung to his uncle’s shirt for dear life as they slid down. After what felt like an eternity the pair plunged into a deep pool of water.

Donald adjusted his hold on the frightened boy and pulled them both to the surface. They came up sputtering and coughing.

Louie buried his head into his uncle’s shoulder while Uncle Donald tried to get his bearings. He spotted a dry pathway and swam towards it. He pushed Louie up on to it and heaved himself up after him.

Once he was clear of the water Uncle Donald grabbed Louie by the shoulders and started looking him over for injuries.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Did you hit your head?” He asked, turning the boy around. Louie shrugged him off.

“I’m ok,” he said breathlessly. A faint hopeful smile spread across his bill. Uncle Donald gave him one final once over before slumping back in relief.

“Good,” he said softly. “That’s… good.” He stilled and gaze grew distant. Louie took a hesitant step forward when he collapsed, barely catching himself before he face planted into the unforgiving ground.

“Uncle Donald,” Louie cried, jumping toward him. He held up a hand to stop him as he tried to steady himself.

“‘m… alright,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. Louie stood paralyzed next to him, both hand out stretched.

After a tense moment, Uncle Donald hauled himself over to the wall and slumped against it. Louie hovered uncertainty beside him.

What would Huey do in this situation? He thought to himself.

Uncle Donald rubbed his forehead and fished a small medicine box out of his pocket. He looked down at it comtemplatively before shoving back into his pocket with a shake of his head. He gasped suddenly and doubled over clutching his head with both hands.

Panicked, Louie grabbed onto his arm. He glanced around rapidly, trying to figure out what to do. He had no idea where they were, or where anyone else was at this point.

Uncle Donald let out a low groan drawing Louie’s attention back to him. Taking a deep breath, he made a decision.

“I’m… I’m gonna go get help,” Louie said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. He moved to leave but Uncle Donald caught his arm and pulled him back.

“No,” he said weakly. “You could… get lost. It’s better to… stay put… and… let them find us.”

Louie sank down next to his uncle and pulled his knees to his chest. An uneasy silence settled over them. Louie shot a nervous glance up at the older duck.

Uncle Donald sat stiffly, with a hand pressed against his forehead and his eyes closed. Louie looked away and shivered. He jumped when Uncle Donald wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

Louie momentarily stiffened, then relaxed into his uncle’s side. They sat in silence for awhile, just sharing each other’s warmth. After a bit Louie fidgeted anxiously and looked up at his uncle.

“U-Uncle Donald,” Louie said uncertaintly. He hummed in response. Louie took a deep breath and continued. “Do… do you… remember me?”

Uncle Donald let out a heavy sigh and cracked open an eye to look down at him. He took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall.

“I… I don’t… know,” he answered distantly. Louie felt his heart drop. He shook his head and winced. “My… head’s a mess.”

“You… you remember Uncle Gladstone, though,” Louie pointed out, his voice small and desperate. Uncle Donald flinched and turned away from him.

“I…” he started, then shook his head violently. He gasped in pain and doubled over, gritting his bill. Louie grabbed hold of his arm in a vice grip.

The sound of someone heading towards them tore his attention away from his uncle. When he saw who was coming his heart stopped. It was Glumgold.

He took one look at the scene in front of him and headed straight for Uncle Donald. Louie bit into his lower lip and took a deep breath. He couldn’t let Glumgold get near his uncle again. He placed himself between them.

“You stay away from my uncle,” he said as sternly as he could. Glumgold shot him a dirty look.

“Out of my way brat,” he said angrily, trying to push past him. But Louie held firm and shoved him back. Glumgold glared down at the boy and knocked him off his feet. “I said stay out of my way!”

Louie felt his ankle twist awkwardly and let out a pained cry. He rolled on to his back and looked up at the enraged heavy set duck looming over him. He closed his eyes and covered his face with his arm.

Glumgold let out a surprised cry and Louie peeked out. Uncle Donald stood between them. He was slightly hunched but had an arm out in a protective manner.

“Keep your hands off my nephew,” he said angrily.

A stunned silence followed. Uncle Donald jerked at his own words and blinked in confusion. Glumgold stared at him with a look of horror on his face. He took a tentative step towards him.

“Donald,” he called gently. One hand reaching out to the distressed duck, the other moved to pull something out of his pocket. “You don’t have any nephews.”

Uncle Donald shook his head and flinched away from him. But Glumgold moved closer and cautiously placed a hand on his arm. He violently pulled away from him. Glumgold’s expression hardened and he lunged at him.

“Don’t touch me,” Uncle Donald snapped, struggling against him. But Glumgold held fast and jabbed something into his neck. He let out a gasp and went limp in Glumgold’s hold.

“Uncle Donald!” Louie cried, springing to his feet. But as soon as he put weight on his ankle a sharp pain sent back to the ground.

“Donald! Louie!” A faint voice echoed and Louie felt a wave of relief. Glumgold however jumped and dropped something to the ground.

“Uncle Scrooge!” Louie called back. Hoping that his great uncle wasn’t too far away.

Across from him Glumgold adjusted his hold on the unconscious duck and half carried half dragged him away as quickly as he could. Louie pulled himself up and watched them disappear helplessly.

He let out a frustrated cry and dropped his gaze. Something caught his eye. He reached over and picked up an epiPen looking device.

“Louie!” He heard Uncle Scrooge call again, making him jump. It was closer this time.

“I’m over here!” He called back, shoving the strange device in his pocket.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it’s short this time

Glumgold hastily strapped an unconscious Donald into his seat. By some miracle, he’d made it back to his plane without encountering Scrooge again. Once Donald was secured, he sank into his own seat and signaled the pilot to take off.

He let out a heavy sigh as the plane started to take off. That had been far too close for comfort. Honestly, he should have realized it was a trap when Scrooge had lured him away from Donald.

He cast a weary look at the sleeping duck beside him. Despite his best efforts, Donald was starting to shake free from his amnesia.

It was clear that his precautions hadn’t been enough. He stroked his bill thoughtfully and shot a suspicious look at Donald.

On a hunch, he searched the younger duck’s pockets. He sighed in relief when he found the deep blue artifact, that was one less thing he had to worry about. But it wasn’t what he was looking for.

He fished out a small pill box and leaned back in his seat. He popped it open and let out a low growl as he peered inside it. Donald had been neglecting to take his meds. That explained things.

He looked over at Donald thoughtfully. If plan B had failed, he was going to have to move to plan C.


	19. Chapter 19

Scrooge massaged his forehead in frustration. The atmosphere of the room was tense to say the least.

Webby hung her head shamefully and Dewey was fidgeting uncomfortably. Huey stood gripping his arm tightly and stared off into space. Louie sat with his sprained ankle elevated, and had a thoughtful expression on his face. Really they were lucky he hadn’t been injured worse.

Scrooge sighed and looked them over thoughtfully. He knew that they had only been trying to help, he just wished that they had told him, or at least Gladstone what they’d been planning.

“Uncle Scrooge,” Webby said softly, she looked up at him with tear filled eyes. “Are you… mad at us?”

Scrooge let out another sigh and moved to kneel down in front of her. He gently patted her on the head.

“Webby darling,” he said gently, “I’m not mad at you, a bit upset that you didn’t let us know what you were planning, but I’m not mad.”

Webby gave him a relieved smile and wrapped him in a hug. He gave her a tight squeeze before pulling away to address the boys.

“That goes for you lads as well,” he said sternly. “No more secret plans.”

“Yes, Uncle Scrooge,” they chorused. Scrooge gave them a warm smile and turned to Louie.

The boy had been unusually quiet on the trip home. He had his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and a distant look in his eyes. Scrooge gave him an appraising look and moved towards him.

“Everything alright Louie?” He asked gently. Louie glanced up at him then looked away nervously. Scrooge let out a heavy sigh and knelt down beside him. “It wasn’t your fault, lad. There was nothing you could have done to stop him.”

Louie hung his head and chewed on his lower lip.

“I know,” he said quietly, fiddling with something in his pocket. “It’s just…” his voice trailed off as he pulled something out of his pocket.

“I found this after…” he stopped and looked away uncomfortably.

Scrooge cocked an eyebrow at him as he held out something. He took the epiPen looking device from him and went rigid. A bubble of white hot anger settled in his stomach.

“Uncle Scrooge?” Louie called uncertaintly. Gladstone, who’d been sitting nearby, frowned and adjusted himself in his seat to get a better look at his uncle’s face.

Scrooge took a few deep breaths. He needed to calm down. He couldn’t lose his temper in front of the kids. Forcing a smile on his face, he got to his feet.

“Launchpad,” he said, turning to the duck standing by the door. “Why don’t you take the kids to get something to eat?”

“Sure thing, Mr. McDee,” Launchpad said brightly. Scrooge reached over and patted Louie’s head.

“And keep Louie here off that ankle,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. Launchpad gave him an easy smile and stepped over to give Louie a piggy back ride out of the room.

Scrooge stood tensely with a strained smile on his face as he watched the kids and Launchpad leave. Gladstone exchanged a concerned glance with Mrs. Beakley. Once the door closed behind them, Scrooge took a ragged breath and let the strained smile slide from his face.

“Duckworth,” Scrooge called, his voice cracking. The butler materialized beside him.

“You called, Master McDuck,” Duckworth said promptly.

“Let me know when the kids are out of earshot,” Scrooge said tensely. Duckworth gave him an inquisitive look but dutifully nodded.

“Of course, Sir,” he said and vanished. Gladstone got to his feet and stepped towards his uncle.

“Uncle Scrooge?” He called nervously. Scrooge didn’t answer. He kept his eyes trained forward and his jaw was clenched.

“They’re gone, Sir,” Duckworth said reappearing in the study. Scrooge twitched and stepped over to a decorative suit of armor.

“Good,” he said through gritted teeth, and slammed a fist through the armor’s breastplate. Gladstone jumped forward.

“It wasn’t the kids’-“

“He drugged him!” Scrooge snapped, spinning around to face him. Gladstone deflated and his widened eyes in horror.

“That crooked, filthy,” Scrooge growled and devolved into some furious sounding Gaelic. After a moment he managed to mostly compose him.

“Beakley,” he said, trying to force the anger from his voice and held the device out toward her. “Find out what was in this.”

Beakley took it from him and turned it over in her hand. She glanced up at Scrooge, who was hunched over and breathing heavily.

“Of course,” She said softly. Gladstone took a hesitant step towards his uncle, one hand outstretched. But Beakley stopped him.

“We should leave him be for now,” she told him in a tense whisper, then turned to look at Duckworth.

“I’ll keep an eye on Master McDuck,” he said, meeting her gaze. Beakley gave him a curt nod and pulled Gladstone from the room.

A loud clattering followed them out as Scrooge took out the rest of his anger out on the defenseless armor.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is wondering Dr. Snow is a dog.

Dr. Rita Snow pinched the brim of her nose for what must have been the hundredth time. She should have slammed the door in Mr. Glumgold’s face. He’d promised to pay her double to compensate for stiffing her before, not that she trusted him at this point.

She cast a weary look at her patient. Donald Duck was not someone she’d normally take on. From what she understood about him, he was stubborn and strong willed. Definitely not someone who was susceptible to hypnosis at the best of times, let alone when emotionally compromised.

The state he’d been in at the start had been genuinely frightening. She normally didn’t restrain her patients, but he’d been so distressed and agitated there had been a real danger of him either hurting himself or her.

It had taken her over an hour and twice the usual amount of her special blend to get him calm enough to put under.

He was still now, almost limp against his restraints, breathing heavily and staring out blankly from half lidded eyes. Dr. Snow sighed sadly. She still felt like he needed a hospital more than a hypnotist, but there was nothing she could do.

She clicked the machine behind her back on and Donald flinched as the spiraling started up again.

“Alright Donald,” She said, keeping her voice as calm and soothing as possible. “Let’s try this again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three hours. It had taken her three hours! But she had done it.

“Alright Donald, let’s go over this one last time ,” She said gently. “What’s your uncle’s name?”

“Flintheart Glumgold,” he answered in an even voice. A vacant expression on his face.

“Good. Do you have any others?” She asked, watching him closely.

“No, he’s the only one,” Donald answered in the same tone.

“Good. And you are to do exactly what he tells you,” she said, appraising him quietly.

“Yes,” Donald answered and Dr. Snow let out a relieved sigh.

“Very good. We’re all done now, Donald,” she said gently. “I’m going to count to three and touch your forehead. When I do you’re going to fall asleep and you won’t remember any of this. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he answered. Dr. Snow took a deep breath.

“Alright, ready. One. Two. Three,” she said and reached over to press her fingers to his forehead. Donald slumped in his chair, fast asleep. Dr. Snow sank back in her own with an exhausted sigh. She was stressed and frazzled, but she was done.

She cast one last look at her sleeping patient before getting up to fetch Mr. Glumgold from the waiting room. He was positively gleeful as he entered the room and made a beeline for Donald. Dr. Snow placed herself between them, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

“Oh no, payment first,” she said sternly. Mr. Glumgold growled at her.

“Fine,” he snapped and pulled out his checkbook. Dr. Snow watched him like a hawk as he wrote it out. He handed it to her and she scrutinized it closely before giving a satisfied nod.

She slipped the check into her pocket and stepped over to Donald. She gently removed the IV from his arm and undid his restraints as Mr. Glumgold watched impatiently.

“Alright Donald, time to wake up,” she said, gently shaking him awake. Donald stirred and his eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at them in confusion.

“Hey there, laddie,” Mr. Glumgold said placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Uncle Flint?” Donald asked hazily, his eyes were glassy and unfocused. “Where- what happened?”

“You don’t need to worry about that lad,” Mr. Glumgold said warmly. “Let’s just get you home and to bed. You need some rest.”

“Ok,” Donald said faintly. He dutifully got to his feet. He swayed slightly, but Mr. Glumgold steadied him and led him out.

Dr. Snow watched them go with trepidation, but shook her concerns away. It wasn’t any of her business. She pulled the check back out and glanced at the clock. Good, the bank was still open. She wanted to deposit it before Mr. Glumgold had a chance to change his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was later that evening. Dr. Snow was going over some paperwork before she went home for the night when someone started banging on her office door.

She looked at the door with a groan. Seriously, what else could happen today, she thought with a wave of annoyance. The banging persisted and she got to her feet with a huff.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called frustrated. She swung the door open irritably. “Can I h-hel-help you?”

Her voice faltered and she felt her knees go weak. Standing in the door with a look of absolute rage on his face was Scrooge McDuck.

“I do believe you can,” he said with an icy calm that perfectly juxtaposed the fiery rage in his eyes. “And you can start by telling me exactly what you did to my nephew.”


	21. Chapter 21

Dr. Snow clutched her teacup like a lifeline. She’d offered Mr. McDuck a cup, but he had declined. Now they sat in a tense, uncomfortable silence.

Dr. Snow couldn’t help but liken the situation to being in the same room as a dangerous, enraged animal, that was trying to decide if it wanted to maul you or not.

She could feel him scrutinizing her from across the room. She took a deep breath and looked over at him.

“So, what do you want to know?” She asked. Mr. McDuck narrowed his eyes at her.

“I think I made myself clear,” he said, the anger in his voice was barely contained.

“Right,” Dr. Snow said weakly, dropping her gaze and trying to compose herself. “This was my second session with Donald.”

“Second?” Mr. McDuck asked. Dr. Snow flinched at his tone of voice.

“Yes,” she continued nervously. “Mr. Glumgold brought him here a few days ago. He wanted to know if was anyway to prevent his memories from coming back.”

“And is there?” He asked tensely. Dr. Snow looked into her teacup contemplatively.

“Not really,” she answered quietly. “I could make it more difficult, but I don’t think I could out right stop him from remembering.”

She paused to take a sip of her tea. Across from her Mr. McDuck mulled over her words with a deepening frown.

“Our first session wasn’t much of a success,” she continued. “I managed to put him under but…” she trailed off with a shake of her head. Mr. McDuck squinted at her suspiciously.

“Mr. Glumgold wasn’t satisfied,” she continued after a moment. “And he took off without paying me.”

Mr. McDuck snorted making her fidget uncomfortably. She nervously took another sip of tea.

“And today’s session?” He asked. She jerked slightly, almost choking on her tea. She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to recount the events of today’s session to an already angry uncle.

“Well,” She said nervously, keeping her eyes trained down. “Today’s session was more successful.”

Mr. McDuck growled prompting her to continued hastily.

“Of course it was difficult and Donald’s really not the kind of person who susceptible to hypnosis,” she said quickly.

“How was it ‘difficult?’” He asked, cocking an eyebrow. Dr. Snow flinched, that might have been a poor choice of words on her part.

“He was… distressed,” she said weakly. “I don’t know why, but it was so bad I had to restrain him.”

“WHAT?!”

Dr. Snow jumped so bad she nearly dropped her teacup. Mr. McDuck had sprung to his feet. She’d thought he couldn’t possibly get any angrier. She’d been wrong, she’d been so wrong.

“I had to,” she defended herself, trying not to cower back into her chair. “He could have hurt someone. He could have hurt himself!”

Mr. McDuck’s eye twitched and he sank back into his chair. She couldn’t tell if he accepted her answer or not but she was sure if she hadn’t been on thin ice before, she certainly was now.

“What else did you do to him?” He asked, no longer bothering to keep the anger out of his voice. Dr. Snow chewed on her lower lip nervously. She was going to have to choose her next words very carefully.

“I-I calmed him down and…” she started cautiously.

“How?” Mr. McDuck cut in abruptly.

“What?” She asked startled. He gave her a scathing glare.

“How did you calm him down?” He clarified. “I know Donald, if he was as upset as you he was. I doubt you would have been able to calm him.”

The tension in the room seemed to increase tenfold. Dr. Snow’s stomach clenched uncomfortably and she was pretty sure if she gripped her teacup any tighter it would shatter.

“I have a-a special medicine that…” she said slowly. Mr. McDuck let out another growl.

“You drugged him,” he snapped, cutting her off.

“Yes,” She said. “But it’s completely harmless, I just used it to calm him down.”

There was a tense moment of silence between them as Mr. McDuck gave her another searching look.

“And then Glumgold had you suppress his memories,” he said tensely. Dr. Snow fidgeted slightly.

“Err- partly,” She said softly. Mr. McDuck shot her a glare. “Mr. Glumgold wanted him to believe that he was his only family.”

A pained look flashed across Mr. McDuck’s face. He took a deep breath and looked away from her.

“I see,” he said distantly. “What about the kids?”

“I… avoided bringing up the children,” Dr. Snow answered quietly. He gave her a surprised look. “Each time I brought them up it… only agitated him.”

“What about Gladstone?” He asked sounding almost desperate. Dr. Snow gave him a quizzical look.

“Who?” She asked. But Mr. McDuck didn’t answer. He gazed off into the distance thoughtfully, his bill twitched into a small smirk.

“I think we’re done here,” he said, getting to his feet and pulling a small card from his pocket. Dr. Snow gave him a confused look as he handed it to her. “If Glumgold brings Donald back here, call this number.”

Dr. Snow looked it over. She distinctly felt a ‘I’ll know if you don’t’ at the end of that statement.

“Of course,” She said tucking it away. She was glad the conversation was finally over.

“Good night then,” Mr. McDuck said curtly, tipping his hat to her and left. Once the door closed behind him she felt a wave of relief wash over her. She looked down at her teacup thoughtfully. After today, she was going to need something a little stronger than a cup of tea.


	22. Chapter 22

Donald sat on the edge of his bed cradling his head in his hands. Why couldn’t he remember what happened at the temple?

He could recall getting there and finding the inner sanctuary with Uncle Flint but then…

He gritted his teeth and shook his head, wincing at the wave of pain it brought him. Had McDuck been there? Had Gladstone?

Why would Gladstone be there?

He let out a groan and massaged his head. He couldn’t get his thoughts straight. All he’d managed to do was make his head hurt worse.

He took a few pained breaths and fished out his pill box. He gave it a weary look. Uncle Flint hadn’t been happy when he found out Donald hadn’t been taking his meds. But as much as they eased the pain in his head, they made him feel… strange.

He let out a sigh and shoved the box back into his pocket. He needed to think. He closed his eyes and tried to will away the pain and make sense of his muddled thoughts.

Donald wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but after a good while a knock on the door roused him from his musings. He glanced up to see his uncle standing in the doorway.

“Uncle Flint,” he said, sitting up. He winced slightly as the movement aggravated his head.

“Hey lad,” Uncle Flint said warmly, giving him a small smile and an appraising look. He stepped into the room and plopped down next to Donald on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… alright,” Donald said distantly. Uncle Flint studied him quietly for a moment.

“Have you taken your meds?” He asked, giving him a piercing gaze. Donald fidgeted and searched for an excuse, but he couldn’t think of one fast enough.

“Donald,” Uncle Flint scolded. Donald flinched and turned away from him. Beside him his uncle let out a heavy sigh. “How can you expect to get better if you don’t take your medicine?”

“I’m sorry,” Donald said sadly. He pulled the pill box back out and looked down at it pensively. “It’s just…”

“I know,” Uncle Flint cut in and placed a comforting hand on Donald’s arm. “But you need them.”

Donald let out a heavy sigh and grabbed the water bottle on the bedside table. He popped open the box and looked down at the three pills hesitantly. He took a deep breath and popped them into his mouth and swallowed them down with a gulp of water.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Uncle Flint said with a broad smile and patted him on the back. Donald slumped his shoulders, it would take a little while for them to kick in. “Get some more rest lad.”

Donald nodded mutely and moved to lay down. Once he settled Uncle Flint reached over to stroke his head.

“I only want what’s best for you lad,” he said gently. Donald sighed softly and relaxed into his touch.

After a few moments he felt the medicine start to take effect. The pain in his head started to fade and his muddled thoughts grew more and more distant. He tried to reach for them, but they evaded his grasp. He let out a defeated sigh and let sleep claim him.


	23. Chapter 23

Scrooge paced around his study angrily. That blasted woman, part of him wanted to tear her hypnosis practice to the ground. He paused his pacing and took a calming breath.

He couldn’t be too hasty. As much as he hoped Glumgold wouldn’t, there was a chance that he would bring Donald back to Dr. Snow. He let out a heavy sigh and resumed his pacing.

He knew Glumgold played dirty, but this was on a whole new level of despicable. He shuttered to think what else Glumgold could be doing to Donald.

He shook away the thought and tried to focus. The hypnosis certainly changed things, but he could work around it.

Dr. Snow hadn’t known about Gladstone, which honestly surprised him. He thought Glumgold knew about Gladstone. He shook his head and chalked it up to his nephew’s infernal luck.

He continued his trek around the room. It would be even harder to get Donald away from Glumgold now. He couldn’t lure him to the last temple. Glumgold wouldn’t fall for the same thing twice. Besides, he didn’t want something going disastrously wrong at an active volcano.

He let out a heavy sigh and moved to sink down in his office chair. He stared down blankly at the map spread out on his desk. What could he do now?

A knock on the door drew his attention away from his musings. Beakley stood in the doorway holding a folder and looking him over with a concerned look on her face.

“Beakley,” he said tiredly.

“Scrooge,” She said, stepping into the room.

“Do you have anything?” He asked, trying not to sound desperate. Beakley held out the folder.

“The analysis of what was in that epiPen,” she said. Scrooge immediately reached out for it. Beakley hesitated a moment. “You might not… like what this says.”

Scrooge narrowed his eyes at her. She let out a sigh and relented, handing it over to him. He flipped it open and poured over its contents. After a moment he pinched the brim of his nose and groaned.

“I’m going to kill Glumgold,” he said angrily.

“I told you you wouldn’t like it,” she said somberly. Scrooge shook his head and looked it over again.

“I’m not familiar with some of these names,” he said, running a finger down the page. Beakley averted her gaze and took a deep breath.

“A few of them are… experimental,” She said cautiously. Scrooge’s eyes flashed up to hers. Flames of fresh rage burned in them.

“Any idea what they’re for?” He asked tensely, flipping through the report.

“The best guess, is that they restrict mental function,” she answered. Scrooge let out a low growl. “However, this particular concoction is too dangerous for regular use. So we surmised it’s for… ‘emergencies’ only.”

“So, in case he started getting his memories back,” Scrooge added, snapping the folder shut.

He glared angrily at nothing and clenched his hands. He had half a mind to just waltz into Glumgold’s mansion and throttle the phony scot to death.

Beakley studied her employer quietly for a moment.

“You’re financial board called earlier,” she said softly. Scrooge stiffened in his seat.

“What did they want?” He asked tensely.

“To remind you that the annual gala is tomorrow evening,” she answered. Scrooge visibly relaxed.

“I have more important things to worry about,” he said looking away. Beakley regarded him thoughtfully.

“You did promise to attend this year,” she reminded him. He balked at her. “And after last year, you know they won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Scrooge groaned and reached up to massage his temples. The things he did for those ungrateful vultures.

“Fine,” he said irritably. “But I’m not wasting my entire night there.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” She said gently. Scrooge glanced up at her, then look away tiredly. He was not looking forward to tomorrow night.


	24. Chapter 24

Scrooge stood in front of a mirror adjusting his bow tie while Gladstone watched him from his seat across the room leaning heavily on his arm.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you, unk?” He asked. Scrooge flinched. Spending an evening with Duckberg’s elites was torture enough without having to deal with Gladstone’s blasted luck as well.

“Yes,” he said stiffly. “I plan to spend as little time there as possible.”

“Alright, suit yourself,” Gladstone said with a shrug. Scrooge glared at him, and opened his bill to respond when Launchpad poked his head in.

“Ready to go, Mr.McDee?” He asked cheerfully. Scrooge gave him a tired look.

“Unfortunately,” he answered. Gladstone chuckled behind him and Scrooge shot him a scathing look.

“Make yourself useful while I’m gone,” he said irritably to his nephew. Gladstone waved him off.

“Yeah, Yeah. I’m gonna go see what the kids are up to,” he said with a mirthful grin. He got up from his seat and left the room. Scrooge rolled his eyes at his retreating back and turned back to Launchpad.

“Let’s go, Launchpad,” he said exasperated. Launchpad gave him a mock salute and escorted him out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Duckberg Annual Gala was a gathering of some of the city’s most prominent millionaires. Most, if not all of whom, had no idea what a hard days work was.

Scrooge felt his eye twitch irritably as he surveyed the room. While he admitted he’d made a few good business connections at the event, he mostly found it full of air headed ninnies.

He let out a sigh and took a sip from his champagne glass. A familiar figure caught his attention and he almost spit out his drink. Glumgold stood just a little ways away from him, talking animately to a couple of young women.

‘Of course he’s here,’ Scrooge thought bitterly to himself. Glumgold never missed an opportunity to show off. And if Glumgold was here… Scrooge quickly scrutinized the crowd.

He spotted Donald standing awkwardly a few paces from Glumgold, he’d never been one for these type of things. Scrooge stiffened, clutching his glass in a vice grip.

He should have brought Gladstone.

Before Scrooge could think of a plan, Glumgold turned away from the ladies. Scrooge moved quickly to stay out of his line of sight and watched as he went to speak to Donald. He couldn’t make out what was said over the sound of the party.

Scrooge kept a close eye on them as Glumgold led Donald away from the main party, stealthily following behind them. He hung back a moment when they exited into a large adjacent hall.

Being as inconspicuous as possible he peered into the hall and covertly watched the pair. Donald disappeared into a restroom while Glumgold waited for him outside. Scrooge made a quick survey of his surroundings before making his move.

He slipped into the hall, closing the door behind him and quietly crept up behind Glumgold. He took one last fugitive glance around to make sure they were alone, then grabbed the shorter duck and shoved him into a nearby broom closet.

Glumgold let out a startled cry as he hit the floor and Scrooge slammed the door behind them. He looked up just as Scrooge rounded on him.

“Ah, Scroogey. I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said with the ghost of a cocky grin on his face. Scrooge’s eye twitched and he let out a low growl.

“Glumgold,” he said venomously. Glumgold flinched and pushed himself away from him.

“Oh, come on Scroogey,” he said nervously. “Are you upset cause I’ve got the upper hand now?”

Anger flashed in Scrooge’s eyes and faster than a cobra strike he darted forward and pinned Glumgold to the wall.

“Is this a game to you?” He demanded angrily. Glumgold squirmed in his hold.

“I’m winning, aren’t I?” Glumgold said trying to muster a confident grin. Scrooge growled and tightened his grip.

“This has gone on long enough,” Scrooge said forcefully. “Let. Him. Go.”

“Now, why would I do that Scroogey?” He asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I mean you of all people should know how valuable he is. Sure, he’s clumsy and has terrible luck and his voice can be grating.” Scrooge snarled and pushed him further into the wall.

“But,” Glumgold continued unbothered. “He’s clever and dependable and so very loyal. In all honesty, he’s an incredibly worthwhile investment.”

Scrooge saw red and yanked the other duck forward so their bills were almost touching.

“You listen here-“ Scrooge started angrily.

“Is there a problem here?” A posh voice cut in.

Scrooge glanced over to the doorway where a tall, smartly dressed dog stood eyeing them suspiciously. With a twitch he dropped Glumgold and back away seething.

“Everything is perfectly fine,” Glumgold said recovering himself. “Right Scroogey?”

“Just peachy,” Scrooge seethed, his eye twitching. The dog looked between them pensively and sighed.

“It would be appreciated if the two of you didn’t try to kill each other at every event you both attend,” he said irritably. “I would hate to have to ban Duckberg’s two most prominent citizens.”

With that said, he turned on his heel and left. Glumgold shot Scrooge a gleeful smirk and followed him out. Scrooge glared after him as he stepped out. He reached out to prevent him from getting too far ahead when a familiar voice made him stop cold.

“Uncle Flint?” Both Scrooge and Glumgold spun to face the speaker. Donald stood just outside the restroom with a pensive look on his face. “Is… everything alright?”

Glumgold gave him a beaming smile and stepped towards him, while Scrooge flinched and felt his anger drain away.

“Nothing you need to worry about, lad,” Glumgold told him brightly, clapping him on the back. He gently pulled Donald back towards the party. Donald shot Scrooge a suspicious look, but dutifully followed Glumgold back.

Scrooge stood frozen watching them go. His stomach churned uncomfortably.

He really should have brought Gladstone.


	25. Chapter 25

Donald slumped in his seat watching the party absently. He didn’t know why Uncle Flint had been so adamant that he accompany him. The whole thing made him uncomfortable and a few people kept giving him strange looks.

He let out a heavy sigh and reached up to rub his head. The throbbing pain was starting to come back, but he’d purposely left his meds behind. Uncle Flint had been after him about taking them regularly, but he figured he could get away with not taking them tonight.

Donald closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. He felt a bit woozy, but Uncle Flint had said they wouldn’t be here much longer. He half wished he wasn’t banned from alcohol right now. A stiff drink would make this evening more bearable.

The sound of someone clearing their throat drew his attention. He blinked open his eyes and looked up. McDuck was standing over him with an unreadable expression on his face. Donald felt his eye twitch.

“Can I help you?” He asked irritably. He really didn’t have the energy to deal with this right now. McDuck looked him over thoughtfully.

“I was wondering if that seat was taken,” he said in a subdued voice, gesturing to the empty chair next to Donald.

“Help yourself,” Donald said stiffly. McDuck moved to sit down next to him. Donald flinched and moved away from him, silently wishing he didn’t feel so terrible.

They sat in silence for a moment. McDuck stared intently into his champagne glass and Donald watched him out of the corner of his eye. After a few tense moments McDuck spoke.

“How are you?” He asked softly, not looking up at him. Donald stiffened.

“I’m fine,” he said stiffly, trying to figure out what McDuck was playing at.

“That’s good,” McDuck said distantly. He turned slightly toward Donald. “I was surprised to see you here. You hate these parties.”

“Uncle Flint insisted,” Donald stated simply. McDuck flinched beside him, but he barely noticed.

How did McDuck know he wasn’t happy to be here?

He tried to shake the thought away but the sudden movement sent a spike of pain through his head. His breath hitched as he winced and brought a hand to his head.

“Donald?” McDuck called, his voice dripped with concern. He reached out to him, but Donald held out a hand to stop him.

“I’m… fine,” he said weakly, trying to catch his breath.

McDuck sat motionless beside him, one hand still half way to him and a worried look on his face. He took a deep breath and a determined look flashed across his face. He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Donald stiffened at his touch and tried to shrug him off, but McDuck tightened his grip.

“Tha mi gad ionndrainn, mo bholcàno beag,” he said in voice scarcely above a whisper. Donald jerked violently and turned to face him.

Scrooge gave him a small smile and moved his hand from Donald’s shoulder to his face. Donald blinked furiously at him and felt himself hunch forward. From somewhere in the back of his mind he felt a familiar nagging.

“Donald?” Scrooge called softly. Donald blinked at him and his vision blurred. Everything grew distant and distorted, like he was submerged in water, and he collapsed forward.

Scrooge caught him before he fell out of his seat and pulled him towards his chest. Donald leaned heavily against the older duck.

“Donald lad, are you alright? Can you hear me?” Scrooge asked him panicked. Donald managed to lift his head to look up at him. He opened his bill to speak but no words would come out.

“Donald!” A voice called suddenly, making them both jump. In an instant Uncle Flint was standing over them with a scowl on his face.

Donald tried to sit up but Scrooge tightened his hold on him protectively. Uncle Flint and Scrooge started at each other murderously over Donald’s head.

“It’s time to go Donald,” Uncle Flint said tensely, not taking his eyes off Scrooge. Donald let out a heavy sigh. He shrugged off the older duck and unsteadily got to his feet. Scrooge followed him up.

Uncle Flint grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. Scrooge took half a step after him and reached out before thinking better of it and withdrawing his hand. Uncle Flint gave him a quick once over and Donald took an exasperated breath.

“I’m fine, Uncle Flint,” Donald assured him weakly. His uncle glanced up at him appraisingly before turning back to Scrooge.

“McDuck,” he said dismissively. Scrooge twitched and shot him a dirty look.

“Glumgold,” he answered bitterly. Uncle Flint snorted at him and tightened his grip on Donald’s wrist.

“Let’s go, lad,” he said, turning away. Donald gave him a tired nod, and shot a final look at Scrooge.

The anger was gone from his face. He looked almost broken. Donald turned away, but he could feel the older duck’s gaze on him as his uncle led him out.

…………………………………………………………………………..

Tha mi gad ionndrainn, mo bholcàno beag = I miss you, my little volcano. Via google translate.


	26. Chapter 26

They sat in silence during the limo ride home. Glumgold watched Donald carefully out of the corner of his eye. The younger duck was slumped in his seat. He eyes half lidded.

He turned his attention away and pulled a few things out of the cabinet. He cast a sideways glance at Donald while he mixed together a certain concoction. All in all, his little experiment had been a success. Thought he had not been expecting McDuck to show up.

He cringed inwardly as he stirred the drink in his hand. He had fully excepted McDuck to try to get through to Donald. While he was well aware of the risk of allowing it, he was pleased with the result. Dr. Snow’s handiwork was holding up nicely.

He finished stirring the drink and tapped the spoon on the rim of the glass. He cast a glance at the younger duck. Donald was absently rubbing his head. Glumgold cleared his throat and turned to him.

“Donald?” He called softly. Donald let out a quiet ‘hmm’ in reply. “Have you taken your meds?”

Donald stiffened and looked away nervously.

“I… uh, must have left them behind,” he answered anxiously, keeping his gaze trained away from him. Glumgold felt a wave of annoyance and fished out the spare pill box from his pocket.

“It’s alright, lad,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “I brought a spare. Just in case.”

“No, it’s fine,” Donald said hastily, turning to him with a panicked look in his eyes. “I can take them when we get back.”

“Donald,” Glumgold said sternly. “We talked about this.”

Donald’s shoulders slumped in defeat as Glumgold held the pill box and glass out to him. He looked them over pensively, and with a heavy sigh he reluctantly reached out to take them from Glumgold.

He hesitated momentarily before popping the pills into his mouth and swallowing them down with a drink from the glass. Glumgold watched him like a hawk. He moved to hand them back but Glumgold didn’t take them.

“Finish that,” he ordered, gesturing to the remaining liquid. Donald gave him an exasperated groan but obediently finished the contents.

Glumgold took back the glass and pill box while Donald slumped back into his seat. He watched him closely as he put away the glass. After a few moments Donald’s eyes fluttered shut as he sank into a deep sleep.

Glumgold let out a relieved sigh and turned in his seat to look over the sleeping duck. Donald’s continued resistance to taking his meds was irritating. If this kept up, he was going to need an alternative means of getting them into his system.

Absently, he reached up to stroke the side of Donald’s face. Donald sighed softly at his touch, and Glumgold studied his sleeping face thoughtfully.

It was imperative that Glumgold keep Donald under his influence. He thought back to his encounter with McDuck ruefully. As much as McDuck wanted him to believe otherwise, Glumgold knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would never touch him as long as he had Donald.

He felt a smirk creep across his bill. He rather liked this change in their dynamic.


	27. Chapter 27

Gladstone hovered outside his Uncle’s study. It had been a few hours since he’d gotten home from the Gala, but he still hadn’t changed out of his tux. Instead he sat with his head in his hand staring wistfully at an old photo.

“Uncle Scrooge,” he called uncertainty. Uncle Scrooge let out a soft sigh and reached up to rub his face.

“I should have brought you along,” he said sadly. Gladstone winced and stepped into the room.

“That bad, huh?” Gladstone asked, trying to keep his voice light as he slid into the chair across from his uncle.

“I couldn’t get through to him,” Uncle Scrooge said broken-heartedly. Gladstone flinched. He hadn’t seen his uncle this broken since… Gladstone shoved the thought away, it wouldn’t help them now. Uncle Scrooge put the photo face down on his desk and Gladstone pretended not to see the tears in his eyes.

“I thought things were getting better between us,” he said distantly. Gladstone felt himself stiffen. “We were talking more, and he was coming on adventures again.”

“Well, the last decade was hard on him,” Gladstone said carefully, purposely not looking at his uncle.

“I know, I know,” he said vacantly and Gladstone bristled.

“No, you don’t,” he snapped making his uncle jump.

“Gladstone?” Uncle Scrooge called uncertainty, but Gladstone wouldn’t look at him.

He knew this was something Donald didn’t want Uncle Scrooge to know about, but right now he was having trouble keeping his bill shut. He could feel his uncle scrutinizing him.

“Gladstone?” He called again, softer. “Is there… something you want to tell me?”

Gladstone flinched and glanced over at him. He looked perplexed and more than a little fearful. Gladstone let out a heavy sigh and reached up to rub his eyes.

“After Del…” he stopped and took a pained breath. “After what happened, Donnie and I had a fight.”

He stopped again and stared down at the floor. He didn’t like to talk about this, much less think about it.

“We both said… I said, some pretty terrible things,” he continued weakly. “We ended up not talking for months.”

He took a few deep breaths to steady himself and felt Uncle Scrooge place a comforting hand on his arm.

“The next time I saw him,” he continued tensely. “I… I’d never seen him like that before.”

He paused again and tried to shake the mental image away. Uncle Scrooge tightened his hold on his arm.

“If it hadn’t been for the boys, we might’ve lost both of them,” Gladstone finished weakly. He didn’t dare look up at Uncle Scrooge now. A tense silence settled over them.

“I… didn’t, I didn’t know,” Uncle Scrooge said softly. Gladstone peeked up at him and flinched at the devastated look on his face.

“Well, you two weren’t exactly talking at the time,” Gladstone said distantly. “Though, I don’t know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up when I did.”

Uncle Scrooge looked away from him and mulled over his words thoughtfully. Gladstone watched him quietly, unsure of what he should say next. After a moment Uncle Scrooge spoke.

“I wasn’t aware that you and Donald were that close,” he said thoughtfully. Gladstone snorted.

“We’re not,” he said simply, making his uncle frown at him. “Except when it comes to you,”

Uncle Scrooge blinked at him in confusion and Gladstone gave him an unimpressed look.

“Come on, Unk,” he said exasperated. “It’s no secret who your favorite was.”

Uncle Scrooge flinched and looked away uncomfortably. After a moment he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost imploringly. Gladstone stiffened and averted his gaze.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” he said tensely and Uncle Scrooge let out a defeated sigh.

“I know,” he said sadly, looking down at the face down photo. “I know.”


	28. Chapter 28

The smell of pancakes and fresh coffee greeted him as he walked into the kitchen. Glumgold paused at the threshold. Donald had his back to him, fixing two plates of pancakes.

He cleared his throat to signal his presence. Donald turned at the sound and smiled brightly when he saw him.

“Good morning, Uncle Flint,” he said brightly. Glumgold regarded him quietly for a moment.

“Morning, lad,” he said as Donald moved the plates to the table. “You know you don’t have to cook, right?”

“I kinda enjoy it,” Donald said contently, setting out the silverware. He gave Glumgold an uncertain glance and added meaningfully, “I made you a plate too.”

Glumgold gave him a fond smile and sank down into a chair. A relieved smile spread across Donald’s face. He grabbed two steaming coffee cups from the counter and set them on the table.

Glumgold helped himself to some maple syrup while Donald slid into his seat. He sampled the pancakes and let out a sigh of pleasure. They were by far the best he’d had.

“These are delicious, lad,” he said around a mouthful. Donald blushed brightly beneath his feathers and mumbled a near inaudible gratitude to his plate.

Donald was certainly an easy person to butter up, Glumgold mused to himself as he took a sip of coffee. All it took was a few words of praise and he was over the moon.

Though, in all honesty, this was pleasant. A comfortable silence settled over them as them ate. Glumgold watched Donald out of the corner of his eye. He’d never had someone fuss over him before. It was a strangely pleasant experience.

The nagging, though, he could do without, especially with that voice of his. But other then that, having Donald around made him feel… warm? Content? He couldn’t quite put a word to it.

He wondered if this is what McDuck meant whenever he went off on a tangent about ‘family’ and the like. If this was how McDuck felt regularly, he couldn’t really blame him for getting sappy. He pushed his empty plate away with a contented sigh and Donald gave him a pleased smile.

Perhaps McDuck was right about ‘family’ being the greatest treasure, he thought to himself as he watched the younger duck beside him. A smirk spread across his bill. But this was his treasure now.


	29. Chapter 29

A hostile atmosphere permeated the room. Webby stood in front of the white board with a marker in hand. Dewey sat in a chair behind her with his head in his hand, staring intently up at the board.

“We could try breaking into his mansion,” Webby said thoughtfully. From across the room Huey let out an exasperated groan and crossed his arms.

“Uncle Scrooge said no more secret plans,” he reminded her for the umpteenth time.

“It’s not a ‘secret’ plan” Dewey defended irritably. “It’s just a plan.”

“That you’re coming up with in secret,” Huey pointed out tapping his foot.

“Well at least we’re trying!” Dewey snapped, rounding on his brother. “What are you doing?”

Huey flinched but before he could respond Webby cut in.

“Stop fighting,” She placated. “We’re not planning anything, we’re just brainstorming. We won’t do anything without telling Uncle Scrooge first. Right Dewey?”

Dewey huffed angrily and turned away, Huey gave him a scathing look in return. Webby let out a long suffering sigh and turned back to the board.

Louie watched on nervously from his seat. He’d lost count of the number of times they’d argued about this. If this kept up he was pretty sure they’d end up coming to blows.

He looked at his sprained ankle bitterly. The doctor said it wasn’t that bad and he’d be able to walk on it in less than a week, if he kept off of it for now. But it made him feel useless. He hadn’t been able to do anything back at the temple.

He felt tears prickling in his eyes, but he blinked them away. Uncle Gladstone had said it wasn’t his fault, but if he hadn’t gotten hurt he could have done something. Maybe stalled Glumgold long enough for Uncle Scrooge to get to them. He bit into his lower lip as his vision blurred.

The sound of a crash made him jump. Dewey had turned over his chair. He stood, pointing accusingly at Huey, who wore an angry expression. Webby stood awkwardly to the side, uncertain of what to do.

“Don’t you care at all!” Dewey yelled angrily. Huey flinched and a pained look flashed across his face.

“Of course I care!” Huey shouted back. “I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt!”

Webby stood frozen with a fearful expression on her face. Louie sniffed and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

“Stop it,” he said wetly, drawing everyone’s attention. “We won’t… get him back by fighting.”

A heavy silence followed. Huey gave him a critical look, while Webby and Dewey glanced at each other. With a sigh, Huey walked over to him and placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders.

“It’s not your fault Louie,” he said gently. Louie looked up at him tearfully.

“But I could’ve… done something,” he said desperately. Huey pulled him into a tight hug.

“You did everything you could,” he told him softly. Louie buried his face into his brother’s chest.

Webby came over and wrapped her arms around him. After a moment Dewey followed. Louie hiccuped in the center of the pile. The tears in his eyes finally spilled over, but right now he didn’t care.

He just wanted Uncle Donald.


	30. Chapter 30

Glumgold looked over the papers on his desk for what felt like the millionth time. He’d pulled out every resource he could think of, yet he was no closer to finding the location of the third temple.

He let out a frustrated sigh and reached up to rub his eyes. After that whole debacle with the last temple, he hadn’t gotten a shred of decent intel.

He was almost certain McDuck was behind it. Right now they where at a stalemate. As long as the third key was up for grabs he had to thread carefully.

Once he got the third key, all that would be left was to get McDuck’s key. He knew there was one way he was guaranteed to get it. He glanced over to the security feed of Donald’s room. The younger duck had nodded off while reading a book.

He watched the screen pensively for a moment. Initially, he’d had no intention of keeping Donald around longer than necessary. He was well aware of how protective McDuck could be of his family, but now he didn’t want to give him up.

He let out a sigh and turned back to his paperwork. If he played his cards right, he might be able to get all three keys without using his trump card. He shook the thought away. That was a bridge he’d cross when he came to it. For now he needed to find out where the third key was first.

He turned over a paper and let a frustrated groan. This was getting him no where. If he was going to find that temple he was going to have to do some hands on research. He pushed the papers away and rolled out a large map.

The King’s tomb was a well guarded and difficult place to reach, but if he was going to find a clue to last temple’s whereabouts it would be there. He frowned and stroked his chin thoughtfully.

The real challenge would be getting out of Duckberg without McDuck knowing, or finding out where he was going.

He was going to need to do a lot of planning.


	31. Chapter 31

Scrooge slumped in his chair as his financial board drolled on. He drummed his fingers on the table impatiently. He’d put this meeting off as long as possible, and he was paying for it now.

He let out a sigh and rubbed at his incoming headache. There were more important things for him to be worrying about than stocks and profits.

Glumgold had gone silent for the last three days. As far as Scrooge knew he was still in Duckberg, but the present silence was disconcerting. He had surveillance all throughout the city, there was no way Glumgold could make a move without Scrooge knowing. And yet… he had this persistent uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

They’d just gotten through a list of suggested budget cuts when a knock on the door interrupted the meeting and a nervous looking dog stepped into the room. Scrooge took one look at him and instantly straightened in his seat.

“Ah, Mr. McDuck, sir,” he said hesitantly. The board’s head Bentley twitched irritably.

“We’re in the middle of an important meeting,” he said stiffly. But Scrooge was already on his feet.

“We can continue in a moment,” he said flippantly and gestured for the newcomer to follow him to his office.

“Mr. McDuck,” Bentley called after him sourly. “You’ve already put this meeting off for over a week.”

Scrooge shot him a dark look.

“Then you’re more than capable of waiting a few more minutes,” he shot back icily. Bentley flinched. Scrooge turned on his heel and walked into his office, the dog following close behind.

Once the door was closed behind them Scrooge rounded on him.

“What do you have?” He asked urgently. The dog fidgeted nervously.

“Well, sir,” he said carefully. “Our sources say… that Mr. Glumgold left Duckberg… yesterday afternoon.”

“Why am I only finding out about this now!?” Scrooge shouted. The dog winced and backed away from him.

“We… only found out… about an hour ago, sir,” he answered nervously. Scrooge growled at him.

“What the hell am I paying you for?” Scrooge snapped. The dog flinched and looked away. Scrooge let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. “Was Donald with him?”

“To the best of our knowledge, he was sir,” the dog said softly. Scrooge took a deep breath.

“Where did they go?” He asked, massaging his forehead. The dog bit into his lower lip and looked at the old duck fearfully.

“We… don’t know, sir,” he said quietly. Scrooge’s eyes snapped up to him, an enraged look dominated his face.

“How do you NOT know?” He demanded angrily. The dog fidgeted under his gaze.

“So far we’ve only been able to confirm Mr. Glumgold’s departure, but we’ve been… unable to determine where he was headed, sir,” he said anxiously. Scrooge felt his eye twitch.

“Go,” he said furiously. “Get back to work, and let me know the second you find out where they are.”

The dog scrambled out of the room and Scrooge reached up to massage his temples. His incoming headache was now front and center.

‘God damned Glumgold,’ he thought angrily to himself. He had no idea how he’d slipped out undetected. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself down.

Had Glumgold managed to find out the location of the last temple?

No. Scrooge had put a considerable effort into concealing that information. He was more than certain that the second Glumgold got his hands on the final key he’d start threatening Donald to get Scrooge’s key.

His mind flashed back to their encounter back in Atlantis. He shook the memory away. Glumgold didn’t have the last key yet, he reminded himself. He couldn’t have found the last temple, but then where had he taken Donald?

The sound of someone knocking on his office door broke him out of his musings. He glanced over to find the board members standing there scrutinizing him.

“Is there something we should know about, Mr. McDuck?” Bentley asked tensely. Scrooge stiffened.

“It’s none of your business,” he said curtly. Bentley narrowed his eyes at him.

“Mr. McDuck-“ he started.

“I said, it’s none of your business,” Scrooge snapped. He was not going to let those uptight busybodies interfere in this. “We’re going to have to postpone this meeting. I have… other matters to attend to.”

“But-“ Bentley started, but Scrooge silenced him with a look.

”Good afternoon gentlemen,” he said disingenuously and made his way out, leaving three confused vultures in his wake.

Right now, he had much more important business to take care of.


	32. Chapter 32

Gladstone hovered outside his uncle’s study. Uncle Scrooge had come home outraged and several hours earlier than expected. Now he was furiously pacing back and forth.

He cautiously knocked on the door. Uncle Scrooge jerked and spun around to face him. Gladstone gave him a weak smile.

“So, how’d the meeting go?” He asked trying to keep his voice light. Uncle Scrooge flinched and glared at a wall.

“Fantastic,” he answered sarcastically. Gladstone gave him a sympathetic look.

“That bad, huh?” He said, carefully stepping into the room. Uncle Scrooge groaned and reached up to rub his head.

“Glumgold’s taken Donald out of Duckberg,” he said heavily, not looking at him. Gladstone jerked back stunned giving his uncle a disbelieving look.

“Why aren’t we going after him?” He asked incredulously and Uncle Scrooge growled.

“Because they left yesterday, and I only found out two hours ago,” he fumed and resumed his pacing. “And I still have no word on where they went.”

Gladstone watched his uncle with trepidation. This whole situation was almost worse than when Del… Gladstone chased the thought away.

They needed to get Donald back. As long as this kept up sooner or later, and if Gladstone knew his uncle it would be sooner rather than later, Uncle Scrooge was going to lose his temper.

Heaven help the poor soul who broke that camel’s back.

Gladstone shifted awkwardly, searching for something to say to lighten the mood.

“Ya know, you’re gonna wear a trench in the floor if you keep pacing like that unk,” he said good naturedly, prompting Uncle Scrooge to shoot him an annoyed look. He opened his bill to retort, but the sound of his phone ringing interrupted him, and he scrambled to answer it.

“What do you have?” He asked immediately. His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the caller. He moved behind his desk and cleared off the map spread out on it. “I see.”

Gladstone stood by apprehensively as Uncle Scrooge spoke to the caller. After a moment his uncle’s frown deepened and he brought his free hand up to his bill thoughtfully.

“I want to know the moment they’re back in Duckberg,” he ordered and hung up.

“Well?” Gladstone prompted, moving closer to the desk.

“They’ve gone to the King’s Tomb,” Uncle Scrooge answered not looking up at him. He poured over the map carefully. Gladstone frowned in confusion.

“I thought you said that you’d need all three keys to get in?” Gladstone asked. “Why would he go there with only one?”

“The only way into the King’s resting place and treasure chamber is with the keys,” Uncle Scrooge clarified and sank down into his chair.

“That still doesn’t explain why he went there,” Gladstone pointed out irritably and Uncle Scrooge shot him a look.

“He’s after the clues to the last temple’s location,” Uncle Scrooge explained crossly. Gladstone gave him a sheepish look.

“Are we going after them now?” He asked. Uncle Scrooge let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. Gladstone stared at him in shock. “Why not?!”

“Even if we left right this second, Glumgold has a day and a half head start,” Uncle Scrooge explained looking away sadly. “By the time we got there, they’d already be gone.”

Gladstone mulled over the information. It made sense, but for once he didn’t like the thought of sitting around and waiting. His luck usually worked better than this.

Although, it wasn’t just his luck that was at play. Gladstone reached up to rub his forehead as a realization dawned on him. He’d completely forgotten that they were dealing with Donald’s luck too.

And while it wasn’t a sure thing, Gladstone knew that their respective fortunes did on occasion cancel one another out. He really should have remembered that. It had been his entire plan back in Makaw.

Uncle Scrooge let out a defeated sigh that drew Gladstone’s attention back to the room. His uncle had a distant melancholy look on his face.

“Unk?” Gladstone called anxiously. Uncle Scrooge looked up at him tiredly. “Are you… ok?”

“I’m fine lad,” he answered softly. “Why don’t you go check on the kids? I have a lot of work to do.”

Gladstone looked him over thoughtfully.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “But if you need anything…”

Uncle Scrooge waved him off and turned his attention back to his cluttered desk. Gladstone watched him for a moment before reluctantly turning to leave. He supposed they both needed some space right now.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long to update, i got sick. hopefully I'll be back on track with future parts.

Donald leaned heavily against a crumbling pillar trying to catch his breath. The hike to the King’s tomb had been arduous enough without having to climb a million stairs too.

Uncle Flint was practically bouncing up the stairs two at a time. Honestly, he had no idea where his uncle got all that energy from.

“Hurry up lad,” Uncle Flint called down to him from somewhere near the top.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Donald called back, waving his uncle off. He heard Uncle Flint chuckle fondly at him.

Donald forced himself to look up and his vision momentarily blurred. He blinked rapidly and reached up to rub his eyes. His head didn’t hurt, for the moment anyway, but he was strangely lightheaded. Though that might’ve just been from the hike.

After taking another couple of heavy breaths Donald resumed his trudge up the stairs to where his uncle was waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the tomb’s entrance Donald hung back a moment to steady himself while Uncle Flint went on ahead. Once he caught his breath he surveyed the chamber quietly from his spot by the entrance.

The large room was dimly lit, in the center was a stone tablet on a raised platform. Across the room Uncle Flint stood with his back to him carefully examining a large mural.

Donald stepped into the chamber cautiously, glancing around warily. He had a prickling feeling at the back of his neck that put him on edge.

Uncle Flint huffed in frustration and stomped over to the stone tablet and studied it with a scowl.

A faint sound above them caught Donald’s attention. His eyes flashed up to the dark ceiling. He tilted his head back and squinted into the darkness.

“Uncle Flint,” Donald called anxiously, taking a step backwards.

“Not now lad,” Uncle Flint said dismissively as he fiddled with a camera to take a picture of the tablet.

The camera flashed and Donald heard and unpleasant hissing. He stiffened and his eyes darted from the inky ceiling to where his uncle stood, obliviously examining the camera’s display.

Suddenly something massive lunged down at the older duck but Donald sprung ahead of it and threw them both out of its path. The massive serpent rose its head to glare at the pair and uncoiled the ready of its body from its hiding place.

Donald leapt from the ground and placed himself between the beast and his uncle. The serpent let out a low hiss before lunging towards him. Donald easily sidestepped the attack and vaulted onto the creature’s head.

He steadied himself and started wailing on the serpent’s head. It let out a pained cry and began thrashing about. Donald tried to get a solid grip but a violent jolt of the serpent’s head sent him flying. He landed hard on his side and gasped in pain.

The serpent righted itself and looked over him. He rolled onto his back and tried to push himself away from the enraged beast. A sudden shout from across the room broke the tension between them and they both turned to where Uncle Flint stood with a flare gun in hand.

He shot a flare directly into the serpent’s face and while the creature writhed in pain he wasted no time in darting over to Donald. He hauled the younger duck up and practically dragged him out of the tomb.


	34. Chapter 34

Glumgold watched the sleeping duck on the bed intently. He taken a chance in taking Donald to a hospital, something McDuck would definitely find out about it, but after their little misadventure it had been necessary. Luckily, Donald had gotten away with just a couple of bruised ribs.

Glumgold let out a heavy sigh and reached over to stroke Donald’s head. Donald sighed in his sleep. He burrowed his head further into the pillow and Glumgold gently adjusted the blanket over him. He looked him over somberly before turning to leave the room.

He paused for a moment at the door and cast one last look at Donald. With a deep breath he headed back to his office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glumgold studied the picture of the tablet, silently wishing he’d been able to get one of that mural as well. That blasted serpent. He’d have to come with a way to deal with it next time.

He turned his attention to a translation of the writing and flipped through it. There were a few words he recognized, but he couldn’t glean anything valuable from it without the translation. A translation he’d unfortunately had to pay for. As if he hadn’t given McDuck enough breadcrumbs already.

He sighed and looked over the map on his desk. If he was reading this right, there was only a couple places the last temple could be. He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

He’d need to plan his next move very carefully. After his last stunt McDuck would certainly be doubling down on his efforts to keep tabs on him. Especially considering the outcome. He glanced over to the security feed of Donald’s room.

Part of him wanted to wait for Donald to recover before making his next move. But if he wanted to keep ahead of McDuck, he would have to act as soon as he knew where the final temple was.

His gaze lingered on the screen for a moment. At least now, with his additional injury, it should be easier to get Donald to take his meds, Glumgold mused to himself.


	35. Chapter 35

Beakley stood pensively outside of Scrooge’s study. The older duck was seated at his desk with his head in his hand, staring blankly down at the papers in front of her. She took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

“Scrooge,” She said announcing her presence.

“Beakley,” he replied, not looking up at her.

“It’s late,” she told him pointedly. Scrooge twitched and irritably shuffled the papers on his desk. Beakley let a long suffering sigh.

“I’m working,” he said stiffly, keeping his eyes trained downward. Beakley narrowed her eyes at him.

“I can see that,” she said dryly. “Might I ask what you’re working on?”

Scrooge let out a weary sigh and his shoulders sagged. He picked up an old photo and stared sadly at it. A tense silence settled over them.

“I can’t… get ahead of him,” he said softly after a long moment. “I’ve faced Glumgold and won time and time again, but right now,” his voice faltered and he took a steadying breath. “But right now, he has Donald and I… no matter what I do, he’s always one step ahead of me.”

Beakley watched him somberly for a moment before moving closer to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. She studied him thoughtfully and considered her next words carefully.

“You’re not just up against Glumgold,” she said softly. Scrooge snapped his head u, a confused look on his face. “You’re against Donald too.”

A strickened look spread across Scrooge’s face. He dropped his gaze, a distant look in his eyes. Beakley gauged his reaction closely.

“You can’t pretend that’s not effecting you,” she continued, keeping her gaze trained on him. “Especially considering the tempestuous relationship the two of you have.”

“Things are better between us,” Scrooge defended indignantly.

“Emotionally pain does not dissipate overnight, Scrooge,” she told him sharply. “You, of all people, should be aware of that.”

Scrooge deflated and sank further down into his chair.

“Yes, I do,” he confessed in a whisper. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I just… don’t know what to do next. I can’t… I can’t lose him too.”

Beakley blinked in surprise at his confession. She was aware of his fears, but it was surreal and more than a little disconcerting to hear him say it out loud. An uncomfortable silence settled around them.

“We haven’t lost him yet,” Beakley reassured him, tightened her grip on his shoulder. “But you should at least try to get some sleep.”

Scrooge sighed sadly.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded weakly. “Just give me a few more minutes.”

Beakley crossed her arms and eyed him suspiciously.

“Fine,” She said crossly. “But if you’re still here when I get back I’m dragging you to bed.”

Scrooge let out an exasperated groan and waved her off. Beakley sighed, shaking her head at him and turned to leave. At the door she cast a glance over her shoulder at him.

Scrooge had straightened in his seat. He held the key up to his face and stared at it with a determined look.


	36. Chapter 36

The air was stiflingly hot as Scrooge carefully led Gladstone and the kids along a narrow path towards the volcano’s temple.

Scrooge had been extra vigilant after Glumgold had managed to slink off to the King’s Tomb. He couldn’t afford to be blindsighted again. Though Glumgold had taken a lot longer to make his move than Scrooge expected.

They rounded a corner into a large chasm that sat under the volcano’s crater. He stopped and threw out an arm to stop the procession behind him. He gave Gladstone a meaningful look over his shoulder.

“Wait here,” he whispered harshly.

Gladstone gave him a curt nod, but Dewey scowled and opened his bill to protest but was shushed before he could speak.

Scrooge took a deep breath and slipped into the chasm. He ducked behind a large boulder and peered out to scout the area.

In the center of the chasm was a tall spire, similar to the one at the previous temple. It was surrounded by lava, the only way to it was a single thin crumbling stone bridge stretched precariously over the lava.

Scrooge carefully scanned the area around the spire, at its foot he spotted a familiar figure. Donald was leaning heavily against a stone outcropping, his gaze was directed upwards. Scrooge followed his nephew’s gaze and spied Glumgold making his way down the spire.

Scrooge clenched his teeth and ducked back out of sight. He signaled for Gladstone and the kids to join him. While they made their way over to him, he peered back out to keep an eye on Donald and Glumgold.

Glumgold stumbled down the last few feet of the spire and Donald rushed forward to steady him. Scrooge twitched and turned to face Gladstone.

“Alright,” he said tensely. “I’ll go confront Glumgold, you lot get to Donald and-“

“We know, Unk,” Gladstone cut in exasperated. “Just go, we’ll be ready.”

Despite the tense situation, an unimpressed look spread across Scrooge’s face. He shook his head and moved to check on Donald and Glumgold.

They were making their way across the stone bridge. Scrooge bit into his lower lip and took a deep breath. As quickly and as stealthily as possible he slipped out and made his way towards the bridge.

He ducked behind another boulder as the pair made it across. Gladstone peered out at him from his hiding place. Scrooge gave him a quick nod and he disappeared again. He heard Donald and Glumgold move closer and steeled himself.

This was it.


	37. Chapter 37

Scrooge held his breath as Donald and Glumgold passed by his hiding place. He moved silently around his cover to keep out of their peripheral vision. Once they had their backs to him, he leapt on top of the boulder.

“Oh, Flinty,” he called out, making Donald and Glumgold spin around to face him. Across the room he spotted Gladstone peek out from his own hiding place.

“Scroogey,” Glumgold replied, placing himself in front of Donald. “Fancy see you here.”

Scrooge’s eye twitched and he jumped down as Glumgold stepped towards him. He slipped a hand in his pocket.

“I’m done playing this game, Glumgold,” he said tensely. A frown spread across Glumgold’s face as Scrooge pulled out his key. “I’ll hand over my key, just let Donald go.”

A panicked look flashed across Glumgold’s face. Behind him Donald furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He gave Scrooge a piercing gaze.

“What-“ he stared.

“Do you really think I’d just hand over my own nephew like that?!” Glumgold demanded angrily. Scrooge growled at him.

“He’s not your nephew!” Scrooge snapped at him.

“Yes, I am,” Donald protested defiantly, crossing his arm. Scrooge glanced over at him with a pained look in his eyes.

“Donald,” Scrooge said weakly. He took a step towards him, but Glumgold stopped him, wearing a sickeningly smug smirk.

“But of course, if you don’t want that, I’ll be more than happy to take it off your hands,” he said reaching for the key in Scrooge’s hand, but Scrooge pulled away with an angry glare.

“I’m not giving this up until you hand over my nephew,” Scrooge spat at him.

Glumgold snarled and swung his cane to strike him. Scrooge easily blocked the attack and tactfully drew him away from Donald.

“Wait, Uncle Flint-waaak!” Donald tried to follow but Gladstone chose that moment to grab him and pulled him back.


	38. Chapter 38

Scrooge lured Glumgold as far away from Donald and the others as he could. He needed to buy Gladstone as much time as possible, so it was imperative to keep Glumgold’s attention solely on him.

The terrain really wasn’t in either of their favors, but Scrooge was the far more experienced adventurer here and honestly, he was happy for whatever advantage he could get.

In a bid to get the upper hand, Glumgold lunged forward, aiming to grab Scrooge’s key. Scrooge repelled him with a snarl and threw him off balance. Glumgold stumbled but managed to recover himself before falling. He rounded on Scrooge, holding his cane out like a sword.

“Hand over that key, McDuck,” he demanded. Scrooge glared at him with narrowed eyes.

“You’re not getting this key until I get my nephew back,” Scrooge said stiffly, shoving the key back into his pocket.

“Donald doesn’t want anything to do you,” Glumgold told him smugly.

Scrooge felt a wave of white hot anger burn through him. He lunged forward, swinging his cane in a vicious attack that Glumgold just barely managed to block.

“That’s because you’ve lied to and manipulated him!” Scrooge said darkly. A panicked look flashed across Glumgold’s face. He pushed Scrooge off and broke away, putting some distance between himself and the enraged duck.

“You’re one to talk,” he spat back breathlessly. “You are the most conniving Duck I know.”

“Don’t project yourself into me,” Scrooge growled, fixing him with a smoldering glare. “I am nothing like you!”

“Just keep telling yourself that, Scroogey,” Glumgold said with a mirthful sneer and chuckled smugly.

Scrooge felt his eye twitch, he opened his bill to retort but a sudden change in Glumgold’s expression halted his words. The amusement had evaporated from his face as he stared intently at something in the distance. Scrooge urgently traces his gaze back to where Gladstone and the kids where confronting a very distraught looking Donald.

He snapped back to Glumgold just as the other duck sprang towards them. Scrooge bolted forward and intercepted him. He wasn’t going to let Glumgold get away with Donald.

Not this time.


	39. Chapter 39

Gladstone kept a firm hold on Donald while Uncle Scrooge led Glumgold away from them. He had not expected Uncle Scrooge to offer up his key in exchange for Donald, but he supposed desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Let me go!” Donald squawked angrily as he struggled against him.

Gladstone took a deep breath and spun himself around to place himself between Donald and the sparring ducks.

“It’s me Donnie,” Gladstone said spinning his cousin around to face him.

“Gladstone? What are you doing here?” Donald asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. Gladstone bit into his lower lip.

“Donnie, I need you to listen to me,” Gladstone said seriously. Donald visibly stiffened and a worried expression dominated his face. “It’s time for you to come home.”

Gladstone watched the confusion spread across Donald’s face.

“Uncle Flint-“ Donald stared, but Gladstone cut him off.

“Glumgold isn’t your uncle,” Gladstone told him firmly. An angry look flashed in Donald’s eyes, but Gladstone continued before he could protest. “He lied to you! He took you away from your family!”

Donald snapped his eyes shut and shook his head. He tried to pull away but Gladstone kept a firm grip on his shoulders.

“Listen to me,” Gladstone said desperately. “The kids need you to come home. Uncle Scrooge needs you.”

Donald dropped his head down and hunched his shoulders. Gladstone watched him closely for a moment, trying to decide how to proceed when a soft sound broke through his thoughts.

“Uncle Donald.” A soft voice called drawing both cousins’ attention.

They turned to where the kids where standing by the boulder they’d been using for cover. Donald blinked in surprise when he saw them, but before either of Donald or Gladstone could say anything they surrounded them, and Louie latched onto Donald’s arm.

“Why did you bring the kids to a place like this?” Donald asked Gladstone accusingly. Gladstone opened his bill to defend himself but Huey beat him to it.

“We were worried about you,” Huey said giving Donald an earnest look. “Besides ‘family helps family’ right?”

Donald stiffened at his words, and gave Huey a pained look.

“And we weren’t going to wait at home when you needed us,” Dewey added crossing his arms. “Ducks don’t back down, remember.”

Gladstone frowned at the unfamiliar saying. Huey however, face palmed with an exasperated groan and Webby winced uncomfortably. But Donald flinched with a look of recognition in his eyes.

“Uncle Donald,” Louie whispered uncertainly, staring up at him imploringly. “You remember who we are now, don’t you?”

It was like a switch had been flipped, Donald went rigid and his shoulders hunched. Gladstone felt a wave of dread wash over him.

“I-“ Donald said weakly. His breath hitched and he pulled away from them, reaching up to cradle his head. He stumbled backwards towards the edge of the cliff.

“Uncle Donald?!” Huey called after him. The kids all moved to follow him.

“Kids stop!” Gladstone order urgently, earning himself confused looks from each of them.

“But,” Dewey said giving Gladstone a desperate look.

“No buts,” Gladstone said as sternly as could muster. “Just- back up for a minute.”

The kids exchanged begrudging looks and hesitantly moved back. Gladstone took a nervous break and stepped towards his cousin.

“Donnie,” he called cautiously. Donald flinched and took another unsteady step backwards making Gladstone’s heart jump into his throat.

“Donnie,” he tried again, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. “Listen I know this overwhelming for you right now, but I need you to step away from there.”

Gladstone heard someone land behind him, but didn’t let his attention stray. He needed to focus on getting his cousin back to safety.

“Donald,” Gladstone tried, cautiously taking a step towards him. Donald’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up at him with glassy eyes.

“Webby dear, give me your grappling hook.” A familiar voice whispered as Gladstone edged closer to the distressed duck.

“Come on, Cuz,” Gladstone said gently, reaching out a hand to him. He felt his heart rise when Donald took a hesitant step towards him, only for it to plummet back down when Donald collapsed and fell off the cliff.

“Donald!” Gladstone cried and jumped forward, but Uncle Scrooge darted past him and leapt into the abyss after the fallen duck.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maisg, mo bhalach = wake up, my boy

Scrooge felt his heart stop when he saw Donald fall. The next thing he knew he was moving faster then he ever had before. He threw himself off the cliff after his nephew. He heard Gladstone and the kids shout after him, but he paid them no mind.

By some miracle he managed to grab hold of Donald as the pair plummeted towards the lava below. Acting quickly, he swung his free arm up and pulled the trigger of Webby’s grappling hook, launching the hook upwards. It latched onto something solid and the line went taut.

Scrooge felt a sharp pain in his arm as they came to a sudden stop just a few feet above the lava. They hung there for a moment as Scrooge tried to gather himself.

“Donald?” Scrooge called nervously. Donald let a low groan and Scrooge felt a wave of relief. He carefully adjusted his hold on him and hit the button to begin retracting the grappling hook and slowly pull them back up.

“Gladstone,” Scrooge called once they neared the top. He gritted his teeth and pushed Donald up. “Pull him up.”

Without hesitation Gladstone leaned over the side and pulled Donald back to safety. Huey and Louie followed after him, while Dewey and Webby hovered by the edge to help Scrooge up. Though once he was relieved of his precious cargo he could easily pull himself up.

“Thank you Lass,” Scrooge said to Webby as he returned her grappling hook. She gave him a beaming smile.

“Are you alright?” Dewey asked, hovering by his side.

“I’m fine lad,” He answered, giving the boy a fond smile, but rubbed his sore arm absently.

“What happened to Glumgold?” Webby asked, looking around for the menace.

“I gave him a solid knock on the head,” Scrooge said retrieving his cane from where he’d dropped it. “But we shouldn’t wait around for him to recover.”

“Uncle Scrooge,” Gladstone called out. The tremor in his voice sent a chill up Scrooge’s spine. He spun around to face him.

Gladstone has Donald propped up against his chest. He had one hand on his cousin’s forehead and a worried expression on his face. Scrooge rushed over to his nephew’s side and knelt down beside them.

“Donald,” Scrooge called softly, taking hold of Donald’s hand. “Can you hear me, lad?”

Donald winced and tried to burrow his head into Gladstone’s chest making Scrooge and Gladstone exchanged concerned looks.

“Maisg, mo bhalach,” Scrooge whispered fearfully. Donald flinched at his words and his eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at them with glassy eyes.

“Uncle Donald,” Huey said hopefully, leaning in closer to him. Donald’s eyes flickered over to him then back over to Scrooge. He opened his bill but no words came out.

“Lad,” Scrooge said gently, reaching out with his free hand to cup Donald’s face.

“Why?” Donald managed finally. His voice was hoarse and breathless. “Why did you… save me? We’re… supposed to be… enemies.”

Scrooge felt a cold chill despite the heat and tightened his grip on Donald’s hand. His shoulders stiffened and he let out a heavy sigh.

“Oh mo bholcàno beag,” Scrooge whispered softly as he looked down at him sadly. “We’re not enemies Donald.”

A tense silence followed as Donald dropped his gaze and stared off into the distance. Scrooge found himself holding his breath as the seconds ticked by. He was searching for something to say next when Donald let out a soft sigh.

“Ok,” he whispered, closing his eyes and his heavy breathing evened out. Scrooge felt a momentary spike of fear when Donald went limp against Gladstone before realizing he had just passed out again.

“Uncle Donald!” Louie called fearfully, gripping Donald’s arm in a vice grip.

“He’s alright lad,” Scrooge said reassuringly, and Louie looked up at him with watery eyes. “He just needs some rest.”

He gave Louie a reassuring smile before turning to Gladstone with a more serious expression.

“I’ll carry him out, I need you to keep an eye out for Glumgold,” Scrooge told him tensely. “I don’t want him sneaking up on us.”

Gladstone gave him a tense nod and Scrooge took a deep breath. He moved to carefully lift the unconscious duck onto his back. Once he had a solid hold on him he cautiously got to his feet and turned to address the others.

“Let’s go,” he said curtly and moved to lead his family out. The kids hung close to him, worried for their unconscious uncle while Gladstone followed a few steps behind.

As they made their way out,Scrooge felt lighter then he had since the start of this whole debacle. He didn’t let his guard down, the last thing he needed was Glumgold to get the drop on him now. But for the moment, he was just happy to have his nephew back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finished. There will be a sequel.


End file.
